Days
by ChronicallyinFlaming
Summary: A series of one-shots dealing with Android 18 and Krillin. Seven stories planned. Minor CC/G, B/V.
1. The One With The Baby

The One with the Baby

The first story in a series of one-shots dealing with Juuhachigou and Krillin.

* * *

Juuhachigou was just _there,_ materialized from seemingly nowhere and he nearly choked as pulled in another breath. The paint can next to him nearly toppled, as did the ladder. Her eyes were his nervous state, his sweaty grip made the ladder slippery. Below him, Master Roshi's house loomed. He glanced down even though he knew not to, to avoid her gaze. Her eyes had grown grimmer.

"You didn't listen to Chi-Chi and take out that life insurance policy, right?"

"Right?"

"Juuhachigou?"

When he looked up from his shoes, she was gone.

A week later:

She was hanging outside the window, maybe half a foot from him, and he screamed. His socks fell from his loose hands. But she was _right_ there, outside his window and he'd just awoken and had just suffered from a terrible nightmare. His sheets were still dampened with fear sweat.

It had involved a blonde woman who kept disappearing only to reappear a foot closer to him, and eventually she ate his face.

Her face were thoughtful.

Krillin waved. His smile was jittery. "Want to come in for breakfast?"

She appeared deep in thought, and the ex-monk doubted it was over whether or not toast would be served.

She was gone so quickly he hadn't even seen her disappear.

His girlfriend was very odd.

Another week:

Maybe this was because of that _one_ night. Or, alright, maybe the other night after that one. Or the one after _that _one.

It had been a rocky relationship so far. She would disappear for a month, then a week, then another month, only to appear before him: a blonde goddess in fashionable clothing who awoke him from a nice innocent dream by kicking him out of bed, wearing a stupid pair of pajamas that she'd quickly taken care of, him stuttering the entire way through it until she told him to shut up. Afterward, her rebuckling her belt, "So that's what that was about. Hm. Interesting." and "You'd look better with hair," and he wanted to say "But no true martial artist wouldn't shave their head," but he could not speak because he knew what she looked like naked. Then her flying away, seemingly forever.

Or curled up next to him, tucked under the covers, their legs entwined, peaceful-waking him up with a kiss, "So, _Krillin_, I owe you my life, don't I? I owe you a debt?" and "Can I persuade you, Krillin, to please not use your remote and kill me before Cell comes, please?" pulling his hair and then "I told you that you would look better with hair," while he lay blinded and half dead besides her.

Or attacking him on the beach, her laughing and digging him further into the sand, him trying to warn her that anyone could them, anyone, and then-"Convince me why I shouldn't kill you," she said casually, her hair hanging nearly into his face-it had taken days for him to get the sand out of his clothes.

Since then he hadn't seen her in about three months, until she showed up and nearly knocked him off the ladder.

Had they taken the physical part too quickly?

But didn't most couples do that sort of thing? Wasn't that an implied part of a relationship? Perhaps it had occurred too soon. And Oolong walking in on them that first night hadn't helped things, Krillin was sure. She'd nearly skinned him. Yet she had come back. And he certainly never instigated it, it was all her.

She had been the one to come to him and want all that. He would have been fine watching some movie on the couch and an evening free of physical contact. A nice dinner and maybe curling up before a fire. Looking at the stars on the beach and charming her with his knowledge of the constellations, which was the exact reason why he'd learned them.

Not that he was complaining, but...

He sat, and waited on the beach for her to arrive. There was a sense that she would come. Something in the air that told him to wait for her to arrive. Or maybe it was because he was starting to understand her, in some way. So he sat in a faded plastic beach chair bleached white in spots from the sun, and watched the waves come in and out.

Eventually, she returned to him.

She was dressed plainly, in a striped shirt and jeans. Her demeanor was wary and her eyes distant. Krillin felt like he was trying to lure a starved cat or dangerous tiger closer. He was very patient. He prepared himself for the worst. Had she finally tired of him, had she found someone else? It was too good to last. He'd known, deep down in the cold part of his heart, that she would not want to spend the rest of her life with him. She could never love him like he loved her.

"So, wanna talk?"

She remained silent.

"You know, you can talk to me. About anything."

"You don't have to hide anything."

Krillin smiled weakly. "Is there anything you want to say?"

"I should kill you. I should've killed you a long time ago."

Her hands were slim and dangerous and the fingers were locked together calmly. He felt like he was being let go from a job and would soon be given his pink slip as well as sent to the firing squad. "I should never have let you anywhere near me."

He could feel the blood draining from his face.

"That first night was a mistake. _All_ the nights were a terrible mistake."

Even his hands and feet were cold.

Wait. What was that? "Juuhachigou? I can sense ki coming from you."

"I really should have broken all your bones and left you for dead."

"Why can I sense ki coming from you?"

"But it's too late now."

"Because...you've grown accustomed to my face?"

Her answer was simpler and lacked any musical references. "I'm pregnant."

* * *

Roshi had never seen Krillin look so smug, not even as when he'd arrived on his doorstep as an arrogant little toad of a teenager. His smirk should have been fined.

He paused after he took a step past the doorway. "Guess who's going to be a father?"

Oolong snorted into his cereal. "The sperm bank actually took your donation?"

Krillin gave the shape-shifting pig a flat look.

"Juuhachigou's pregnant."

Oolong's spoon fell back into the bowl with a small splash. Even Roshi felt a little surprised. He'd expected an announcement of engagement, maybe that he was simply dating the blonde woman.

The mostly retired fighter remembered the first time he'd properly met her. He'd gone out to watch the tide, and seen her fly past him, to wait besides a covered window. Then she caught sight of him.

The android's hair blew slightly in the wind, and she'd worn the guiltiest expression he'd never thought he would ever see coming from the blank faced woman. She hadn't said anything, even as Roshi lit his pipe and watched the moon rise. "You know, Krillin's window is on the other side."

She looked surprised and became even stiller. Even her hair stopped moving.

The slim woman cleared her throat awkwardly. "The other side?"

"Yep. That's the bathroom window."

"I see."

If she'd been standing on the ground, Roshi could imagine her scuffing a shoe on the sand. Her eyes were darting around wildly. "Thank you." The words were low, but unashamed.

Slowly, she flew over to the other side of the pink house.

He sucked at his pipe. "Thatta boy," he said, to himself.

Brought back to the now, as Krillin nearly danced around the room. Roshi patted his student on the back proudly.

The pig was looking at them in disbelief. "The little android?"

"The blonde one," he held his cupped hands up to his chest. "The one with the boobs?"

Krillin's look was flatter than the island. "Yes."

"Really?"

"Are you sure?"

"I mean, you two were in bed, but I thought you two were just cold. Or she was trying to kill you. Or you bribed her to let you even get close."

The fighter turned away from Oolong. "Can you believe it, Master Roshi? Isn't it amazing?" His eyes gleamed and he slammed a fist into a wall, making the entire house shake with his enthusiasm.

"I can't wait to tell everyone! They're going to be so shocked!" The dark-haired man laughed and threw another punch at the wall. Things began to fall off the shelves.

"I can't wait to see their faces!"

"I'm going to be a dad!"

The smile drained from his face. "Oh my god, I'm going to be a dad!"

"Oh my god, _I'm going to be a dad_! What the hell do I do?"

"What do I do? I don't know how to be a father!"

"Hey. I'm going to be a dad. This is amazing."

"_I'm going to be a dad_!"

* * *

Yamcha was staring deep into his cup of coffee. Tien was looking away, into the window, sucking air slowly into his mouth with a low hissing sound. Chi-Chi looked up into the ceiling, as though it contained the proper reaction. Bulma looked almost pleased.

Chi-Chi was the first to speak.

"Are you sure about this, Krillin?"

Krillin stayed silent, decided not to mention that the courtship had consisted of three nights that Juuhachigou regretted. He let their words just run over him. After all, a father had to learn to be patient.

"Are you sure you want Juuhachigou to be the mother of your child?"

"You can't say you know or trust her very much, can you?"

"We haven't even heard from the androids for over a year."

"I thought that they had gone deep into hiding, or had committed some sort of murder/suicide. Really, the only interaction we should be having with them is to decide which one was the murdered and which was the murderer."

"Juuhachigou would be the murderer. I mean. That's ridiculous." The short fighter wished he could explain her better. She was capable of both night and day, while Juunanagou was at best evening. He was the one that was anti-social and violent. But of course he didn't want to have them go after Juunanagou; he was Krillin's child's uncle. They were family now, and family did not sic violent friends on to their relatives.

"She wouldn't hurt anyone."

Yamcha sighed. "This is my fault. I take the blame for this one. If I had tried harder, had talked more girls into giving him a shot, none of this would have happened."

"Krillin, man, she's cute but...Listen, we'll hit the bars, we'll try that five-minute speed dating again. We'll put out new, better personal ads. With that hair, we can get you someone, now."

"Listen, damnit, Juuhachigou is carrying my child and you need to get that through your thick heads. I love her, and we're going to raise our child together." Krillin also decided to leave out the part where she'd dissapeared again after telling him the news and not telling him where she would be going and if she would ever return. She would, he was sure. She always came back.

The dark-haired man didn't understand quite why or how, but he felt that he had some sort of hold or pull that drove Juuhachigou back. In the back of his head, a little cackling voice said that she couldn't get enough of the Krillinator, then was immediately shut up. If she ever knew such a thought crossed his mind, she would murder him.

"And don't you ever mention that stuff to Juuhachigou." It was hard to be intimidating when you were under five feet. And being the strongest person in the room had much fewer effects than he would have thought. How did Vegeta pull this off? It was the thick hair standing on end. It had to be.

Yamcha looked more distressed than ever. "Listen, man, you don't have to be with her. Maybe you two can raise the kid together, but not _together."_ The scarred ex-bandit ran a hand through his hair. "This is my fault. I really should have tried harder to save you."

"No," Chi-Chi shook her dark head. "This is from all the fighting. It had to have some effect. The punches to the head. All that dying."

The room at large was almost grave. Except for the blue-haired scientist.

"I knew it! That's why you grew your hair out. Ha! And she liked you back! Vegeta was totally wrong!"

"Guess who has to change Trunk's diaper for a month!" She gave Krillin a high-five that he responded to only because he knew she would slam her hand if not into his palm, then into his face. "Oh. And hey, good going with the android. She definitely won't be any trouble now with a kid."

"What? Trouble?" Krillin gave her a disturbed glance. "Is _that_ why you and Vegeta-"

Her foot whacked firmly into his knee. It shouldn't have hurt. Especially as much as it did. "It's the blonde one, right?"

"The blonde android?"

"For god's sake, why does everyone keep asking that?"

"Well, send her down and I'll give her a checkup. It'll be interesting to see more than blueprints of these two."

"No, seriously, how would the black-haired one get pregnant. It's a guy, people."

"Well," Chi-Chi sighed. "If she makes you happy."

"I guess we can use the dragonballs to wish you back."

"Come on, there's a clear difference between them. You know, the _gender_ and all."

"I guess Chi-Chi's right." Yamcha patted him on the back. Krillin lacked a nose, yet he thought he could still smell pity in the room.

"I thought they were dating instead of brother and sister, and I still knew that she was a girl and he was a boy."

"It'll be okay." Tien nodded. "Best of luck."

"He's got a scarf, and sounds like a guy. How can you confuse the two of them? He doesn't look like a girl! And she most definitely doesn't look like a guy!"

Bulma refilled her coffee cup as the room emptied. "Are you hoping on a girl or boy?"

Krillin glared at her.

"What? Oh, stop making that face. It's like being stared down by a teddy bear."

* * *

The lab did not resemble a doctor's office. For one thing, there were far too many tools scattered on the ground. Most doctors, even dentists, didn't tend to have buckets of oil hanging around to trip over.

Juuhachigou gave Krillin a long searching glare.

He shrugged. "Really, this is where she said to go."

"Really."

It had been hard enough to talk Juuhachigou here. But eventually he'd worn her down. Mostly by pleading and looking at her with watery sad eyes. But she gave in, either through his attempts at logic (Where else was she supposed to go, after all?) or through his whining. That didn't mean she was happy however.

Krillin wished he could put his arm around her or ruffle her hair, comfort her, but she was too emotionally distant for him to even try.

"Hey, you guys." The scientist gave them the quickest glance before turning back to her papers. Krillin could see the blueprints of Juunanagou nearby, scattered underneath a pile of graphing paper. Then she did a double-take.

She took a long look at Juuhachigou, then at Krillin.

Bulma gave him another high-five.

"I take everything I ever said about you back."

"Because clearly I underestimated you."

"Or did you sneak behind my back and used the dragonballs?"

Juuhachigou was not amused. She made it clear that if Bulma attempted to give her a high-five, she would not walk away with all of her fingers still attached.

The scientist pulled out a pad of plain paper. The click of her pen echoed through the room. "So, I'm guessing you're pretty sure you're pregnant?"

"Yes."

"Took a pregnancy test?"

"Five of them."

Bulma wrote down the numeral, then looked back up again. "Five?"

"Yes."

Krillin glared at his old friend. The mother of his child was paranoid about being pregnant, what of it.

"And uh," Bulma nearly squirmed in discomfort. "How long have you been pregnant?"

Juuhachigou thought on it for a moment. "Maybe a-"

Krillin answered, "Three months. Or four. Or four months and two weeks."

The blue-haired scientist shuddered. "Too much information. Far too much."

Juuhachigou looked to be restraining herself from strangling him. Which he appreciated very much; it was after all for the baby. As everything would be from now on.

"Well. Well. Why don't we have a look at the baby?"

Krillin immediately felt his face break into a smile. "Can you see it yet?"

"Sure. Lemme find the stuff." She shuffled some stuff around, random metal parts and a rattle, and part of a burned crib. Juuhachigou's eyes followed it as Bulma shoved the twisted metal down a low flight of stairs and it landed on a pile of torn stuffed animals and what might have been a basinet had it not been splashed with acid.

He ignored that and hugged Juuhachigou. She gave a start in his enthusiastic arms. The android was carrying his baby, and yet they'd never hugged before. "Isn't this amazing."

When he looked into her perfect face, the face of an angel, light blonde hair falling straight to almost her shoulder, her teeth were bared in something that was very much not a smile. Those gorgeous pale blue eyes that most certainly looked dead, lifeless in any other face were hard and unaffectionate. She remained unmoving.

Bulma dropped what looked like part of a rusted radiator at the sight of her.

Krillin hugged tighter.

If she truly detested this, she would have shoved him through a wall.

She was just intimidated. Really. She was enthused, deep down.

He rested his head on her shoulder. "Our baby," he cooed. Their baby, that little life that was growing inside the woman he loved. A little baby with maybe her blue eyes (would they be blue, or what color Juuhachigou had actually been born with, what color eyes had she been born with anyway? Could he ask her that?) and blonde hair. Or would they have dark hair and his black eyes? Dark hair and her eyes? His black eyes and her light hair?

Juuhachigou's light tinkling laugh instead of his dorky chuckles and snorts. Her slim lovely form over his more muscular body, her average instead of his...less-than-average height, sharp features rather than roundish face, and her straight even hair as opposed to his hair that was always slightly rough and stood up everywhere without using a blow-dryer and brush.

If the baby had his hair and her eyes, it would look like Juunanagou, Krillin realized.

-Would the baby have a nose?

Bulma's mouth was moving but no words came out.

Juuhachigou nodded gravely. "We will be able to see the baby."

"Yeah." The scientist managed to drag some shiny new equipment out underneath a pile of rubble. "Okay, now lay on that table over there (go ahead and throw out that old ramen container) and lift up your shirt."

Krillin wanted to ask 'which ramen container?' because the metal table was littered with them, but then he saw Juuhachigou's face. "It's okay." He squeezed her hand. "It won't hurt."

She sneered at him. "I'm not afraid." But her hand didn't leave Krillin's, even as she shoved aside the Styrofoam bowls with one blow and lay down. She looked very young lying there, and her eyes were very wide as she stared at the contraption Bulma was dragging over.

"Okay."

"So, we'll put this gel stuff on and then get a peak at what either Krillin Junior or Juuhachigou Junior look like. Hey, if it's a girl, you can name it J.J."

She shrugged at the android's glare. "Or you can always name it after the beautiful genius who helped saved the world from both the threat of Cell and those androids."

"Or at least," Bulma glared at Krillin. "Tried to."

"Really, Krillin, you wanna explain to me again what happened to that remote I gave you?"

He looked at her for a few moments. "You do know who Juuhachigou is, right?"

"Whatever. I still don't understand exactly." Then her eyes shifted to Juuhachigou and softened a little. Odd since the blonde woman looked ready to tear out her throat. "Okay, maybe a little. Since it worked." She flipped on the screen balanced precariously on the white machinery. Both Juuhachigou and Krillin ignored her last comment.

"Lemme put this gel on..."

Krillin tried to lift the bottom of her shirt was and winced as his hand was slapped aside. She dug an elbow into his side. "No."

"Okay, okay."

Bulma spurted out some of the gel onto Juuhachigou's stomach, and looked impressed. "Usually people complain about how cold that stuff is." Juuhachigou shrugged.

"Let's see." The blue-haired woman ran a white device over her. Juuhachigou's eyes darted between the screen to the instrument and Krillin looked from her to the screen until he felt dizzy.

"There it is."

"That little grey thing right there. It's too soon to see the gender though."

Krillin's jaw fell until it hit his chest. There it was, Krillin Junior, or J.J. Just there, that little peanut thing that was made up of him and Juuhachigou. Wait, that was it, right? That squiggly thing? When he looked at her, she was transfixed on the screen and he squeezed her hand warmly. "Our baby," he cooed.

Her fingers dug into his side. They might have been playful, coming from someone else. "This is your fault."

Bulma laughed. "Wait until the hormones really kick in. You'll want to kill him, and then you'll be grateful you didn't."

Juuhachigou looked confused. Krillin shrugged again. He had a feeling that by the time the day was over, his shoulders would be very sore.

"Okay, so do you want a picture to remember this moment?"

"And how exactly do you plan on paying for this visit, Krillin?"

"Ha, just joking. Hey, what's this thing growing on the baby's skull?"

"Oh, calm down, Juu, I was kidding."

* * *

The Saiyan prince looked at him almost grimly. For a second, there was no mockery in his gaze, only the pity of a man who'd seen many awful things and done worse. It was the friendliest look Vegeta had ever given him.

He leaned against the wall, next to Krillin. "Get out." Vegeta whispered from the corner of his mouth. Lips barely moved, like something out of a spy movie.

"Get while you still can."

"What?"

"_Run_."

"What?"

"Before you can't." He hissed.

"Vegeta! Where are you, why aren't you watching the baby?"

"He needs his diaper changed! VEGETA!"

"_Hurry_." Then he turned toward the doorway and began yelling. "Woman, why don't you change him?"

Trunks began to cry.

"You do it, I'm busy!"

"With what?"

"With something other than sitting around and watching soap operas damnit!"

Trunks would need to be toilet trained very quickly, for his own safety, Krillin realized. He and Juuhachigou would be better than that. He was sure. He would change the baby's diaper, every time if necessary and would do some without screaming at her. They would not be like Vegeta and Bulma. They would never come to the point where they would be throwing empty baby bottles at each other's heads.

Never.

Juuhachigou stepped out of the bathroom. Her expression was grey-tinged, but dignified.

"I told you that you might get morning sickness."

"Shut up."

A bottle came within an inch of hitting her. Juuhachigou ran a hand down the front of her shirt, straightening it. "Let's get the hell out of here." Her hand pulling and dragging him by the shoulder was wonderful. Not only because it meant leaving the flying projectiles, but because it meant that Juuhachigou still wanted him near her.

* * *

About a month later, he was flipping through a parenting book and Juuhachigou was reading the instructions for another baby proofing device. "I will not have our child hitting their head and ending up like Goku," was all she said whenever someone in the house complained about the contraptions. They would stop yanking at the ridiculous baby proofing on the refrigerator, think about their dear friend and hero, and agree with her.

Having something clear to do besides gestate the baby seemed to help Juuhachigou. She looked much less panicked then on the day she'd told him she was carrying his child. In fact, in this small kitchen alone together, the android looked almost happy. Krillin was beginning to learn how single minded and determined she could be. If she was going to be a mother, she _was going to be a mother. _

Her moodswings were no crazed than they usually were, and her diet was unchanged. Except for the part where she actually ate something. But it wasn't like Chi-Chi, who would have cravings for french fries in the middle of the night, and who better to call up and ask for some than her husband's best friend?

Juuhachigou also didn't dissapear again, and spent every night at his house, avoiding the others miraculously, and repeating over and over again that she didn't actually live here. Then she would hide in a closet as someone came down the stairs. Despite that, it was wonderful to have her near him. She no longer flinched when he would hug her.

"Hm. You know, we should maybe clean up the attic more. Just in case they end up crawling up there."

Krillin nodded. This chapter about aliens and human raising a child together was making a lot of sense. It rang so true that Krillin wondered if the writer was one of his friends using a pseudonym. He had a brief image of Piccolo seated at a desk, typing away one fingered at a keyboard. "Mm, yeah."

"Oh."

Juuhachigou dropped the instructions.

"Oh shit, I forgot to tell my brother about the baby."

"It's been an entire month. You've spent all the nights here."

"I know…Look. You know how my brother is."

"No, I don't. I haven't really met the guy."

"And you aren't now. I'm not taking you there."

"Come on. He'll find out anyway. I might as well be there."

"Fine," she slapped the flimsy instruction manual down onto the table. "_Fine_."

As she went to dress herself in something better for fighting than a loose dress, Krillin swore she uttered the words 'like being glared at by a teddy bear.'

* * *

It was like something out of Juuhachigou's nightmares. Krillin couldn't see one thing that was not dangerous for a child to be around. Knives and guns everywhere. A half-gutted deer that had to be full of germs on the table. The rough walls that begged for a delicate hand to catch splinters. Shelves that looked loose. A towering plastic lumberjack in the corner that looked to be teetering. The elk heads on the wall even looked dangerous, at least they would work as nightmare fuel.

Krillin understood that from now on, instead of the nightmare where the baby broke apart in his hands, or was tossed around by Cell and those Junior Cells as they played a game of football, he would just imagine their child set loose in this house.

Juunanagou hopped onto the couch besides them, his large pig sticker of a knife flew out of its holster on his belt and missed Juuhachigou's stomach by an inch. If that.

"Oh, sorry." He laughed and drained a beer clutched in one hand. When he tossed it into a pile, it bounced off the wall and nearly hit Juuhachigou in the face.

"Maybe." One of her eyes was twitching. "Maybe it would be better if you removed all the weapons you have on you for a second."

He shrugged. "Alright. Whatever." When he unholstered the gun and set it down, it landed on another gun that went off and missed Krillin's head by just barely.

Juuhachigou stared at the hole in the wall for a while. Krillin waited until he had feeling left in his legs to speak.

"So. What's this all about? Why is _he_ here?"

"Oh! You guys should totally see this television system I'm setting up. I have the wires and everything. I'm really starting to get a hang of this electricity stuff."

"And I'm digging a pool."

Krillin corrected himself. It was not just the elk heads; all of this was nightmare fuel.

As his friends procreated around him, he'd resigned himself to being an uncle figure. And there were only two real types of uncle, the fun one, and the creepy one that no one talked about and was never invited to family reunions. He had been determined to be the fun one and so far had been pretty successful. At least when his friends had a party, they invited him.

Now that he was a father, or nearly anyway, he realized that Juunanagou was definitely not falling into the fun-uncle category. They would have to lie and tell the baby that both he and Juuhachigou were only children. This man before them who looked so like the mother of his child was definitely not going to be asked to babysit. Roshi they would trust before this man. Oolong would be called to watch over the child before Juunanagou. The baby might come up to them and ask what a threesome was, but at least it could still walk.

The fantasy wrote itself:

He saw a light-haired, dark eyed baby, gorgeous and perfect, with his goofy smile toddling up to Juunanagou on tiny pudgy legs. "Uncle! Uncle! Throw me!" And then Juunanagou doing so.

"Hey," shrugging casually as the distraught parents clutched what was left of their child. "The kid asked for it."

And this was only the first scenario to occur to him. What about when the child grew older, would Juunanagou want to take them hunting? Krillin imagined a dark-haired child, as old as Gohan, with Juuhachigou's blue eyes and small smile, standing next to Juunanagou and proudly holding his first gun that just barely fit in his small hands. He couldn't even picture the actual catastrophic event. All he saw was his baby laying in a coffin in a white suit while Juuhachigou literally shook her brother to death.

How about if the kid wanted to learn to fight? Who better to ask then one of the strongest fighters on the planet, a man who had nearly killed the defenders of said planet? This time their child had brown hair from a combination of their parents dark and light hair, and dark, dark blue eyes, a little older than Goten. "Sure, J.J. I'll teach you to fight. You have to learn to take a punch though."

Their child, blond and light eyed and grinning happily, walking onto stage to give their speech as they graduated from a top university. They opened their mouth, and Juunanagou walked in with a crossbow yelling, "Where's the genius!" and accidentally loosening an arrow into the child's chest. Why a crossbow, Krillin didn't know. He didn't need to. He knew instinctively that Juunanagou would do it.

His mouth was so dry Krillin ended up taking one of Juunanagou's offered beers. He would need it for the coming hour. Juuhachigou stared at him enviously.

Krillin decided to take a hit. "Hey. Juunanagou, do you like kids?"

"Kids?" His almost brother-in-law took a sip of his drink. "I guess. For dinner. Why?"

Juuhachigou looked at the two of them gravely. She took Krillin's beer and calmly poured it over his head. "This is your fault."

Spite and sticky clothes made the words easier. "Your sister's pregnant."

* * *

So Juuhachigou moved in with him.

It was not that her brother had thrown her out. He had not chased them around his cabin and taken shots at Krillin as they ran away into the forest, cables dangling from her fingers as revenge for the insults he'd hurdled at her child's father. _"You'll get cable when you become sane!"_ They had not spent several hours huddling in trees or fleeing. He never felt quite touched that she'd stuck up for him even as they hid in a ditch and hoped that Juunanagou's shadow didn't fall upon them.

Krillin could not recall Juuhachigou screaming at her brother "Oh, come on, he's not that bad!" and "What the hell do you know about anything?" Like a mirror image of the meeting he'd had with his friends.

_She_ had decided to move in with him. "It'll be good for the baby to have a solid home. Even if it's this one."

Of course, she didn't know what she was moving into. What she knew of Krillin's roommates was that they were a pig that could change form, a turtle, and a retired martial artist who'd training Goku and Krillin and had a penchant for pornography. This only scratched the surface.

He warned her. She scoffed and said she could handle herself.

Umigame met her politely and shook her hand nicely. "Congrats on the baby." Juuhachigou gave him a sour look afterward. "See."

"I have to clear you living here with Master Roshi."

"What? Don't look at me that way. It's his house."

"Fine. Let's get this over with. I'm sure everything will be fine." It wasn't often that he was the cynical one. At least this time he wouldn't have to try and go clam digging and almost be eaten by a giant eel. Yeah. There was that. He smiled at Juuhachigou.

"What? Stop staring at me like that Krillin. It makes me uneasy."

"I'm just so glad that I met you."

"Yes, well…why is this house painted pink anyway?"

"Prepare yourself. This is the least of it."

"I told you, I can't handle the situation."

Then she met Oolong and Roshi, who had were sitting at the breakfast table and had brought them...presents. Krillin asked if they were for the baby. They responded that if was for before the baby was born, and after. "We didn't know you're size, Juuhachigou, so we used our best guesses. You're like a 34B cup, right?" It was like something out of a horror movie.

He dived for her hands, but fell too short. His head hit the linoleum and Juuhachigou's yell filled the room as she opened the present. The first present.

Her face was actually beet red and he had never seen her look like that, not even when Cell was after them or she beat up his friends or when they had to flee into the woods to escape her axe-wielding brother.

"_What do you perverts think you're doing_?"

They were used to being yelled at by women, yet Juuhachigou could bring them to their knees. She could actually use ki and use it so well that she'd nearly killed Vegeta. Maybe he should have warned them about that? But it was hard to give them all the information when he'd only been able to call them from a filthy phone booth that stank of urine, and they'd only been able to find enough change between them for a twenty second call. The reception had been bad and Juuhachigou was paranoid that her brother would find them any second now_, run, Krillin, get out of there _before taking off running and leaving him behind_._

In the end, she made them open the presents, one by one, weeping that they were sorry, so sorry. Her glare made them shudder and even Krillin, who was huddled on the floor for safety, was affected by it.

"We'll buy things for the baby, we swear."

"Good things, nice things."

She didn't need to lay a finger on them. She just pointed at the door and they scrambled out. It wasn't just her strength, but somehow her power could transcend something as simple as being able to kill them with one little finger. Her eyes could simply kill and could never be reasoned with. You could not explain to the rabid tiger why you'd decided to poke it in the eyes as it mauled you.

Krillin held his knees closer to his chest as he heard them leaving. He wished he could join them, where it was sunny and there was no yelling. She swept him off the floor with one hand. She was wearing a smile. "Now that those idiots are gone, how about we try out some of their gifts."

Juuhachigou inspected some of the clothing.

"Huh. They got the right size too."

* * *

Roshi had tears on his face. Krillin felt no sympathy. "This had to be done. At least, for awhile."

"But, did you have to burn them?"

"That was Juuhachigou. I was willing to let you bury them in a time capsule until the baby is eighteen. But she wouldn't allow it."

"Good job wearing the pants," Oolong snorted back tears. "Couldn't you have told your baby's momma to at least leave us the edible underwear?"

The cheery flames illuminated the beach. If it had been logs or driftwood burning, you might have imagined a nice night with a couple of friends exchanging stories. A guitar and a few smores wouldn't have looked out of place. When it was a pile of dirty magazines however, you...well, you probably wouldn't know what to think.

Juuhachigou was wearing a smile while Oolong and Roshi wept. "I've been meaning to do this for months." She tossed another movie into the flames. 'Blonde Bombshells on the Beach.' It had a vacantly smiling half-naked blonde on the cover. Krillin guessed she was so happy because she was topless and with other blonde women she could relate to. That was important to people, to be with others they had something in common with. If there was an island of short noseless guys, maybe he would be smiling happily too.

Or maybe the fumes of burning paint were getting to him.

"Especially that one."

"And this one." The hated twins' video was tossed underhand into the fire. "And this one."

The other hated twins' video.

She kicked a pile of specifically chosen movie and magazines that irritated her. Ones with blondes, ones that featured androids or cyborgs or robots of any kind, videos about twins that she spat on before throwing them into the flames, and some that boasted that they showed only short men with hot women. "I will not have your dignity stricken down like this. Not like this."

It would all burn, in time, but she wanted to savor the destruction of a select few. She threw them in, one by one, muttering things that he couldn't hear.

"And these."

The anatomically correct and full-sized dolls looked disturbingly human-like as they burned. Krillin almost expected to hear them crying out, especially since their mouths were open so wide. But the only yelling was from his master and the shape-shifting pig.

When she threw it all into the fire, she came to him. She looked beautiful in the red glowing light, even as the bottles of spray-on underwear began to pop like fireworks. The smell of plastic was terrible, and the smell of burning hair was awful. Krillin wondered again why she'd tossed Roshi's wigs into the fire as well.

Her arm wrapped around Krillin's shoulder, affectionately. She ruffled his hair and pressed her nose into his temple. He understood what she wanted as the porn burned around them. The false, lying porn that had deceived him throughout his teenage years by telling him that beautiful girls were just waiting to throw their underwear off as soon as the cable man showed up. That all you had to do was show them a porno and they would fall to their knees and that even the ugliest hairiest guys could have sex with gorgeous women.

He thought back on those movies as he watched them turn to ash that Juuhachigou would cover with salt. Those absurd movies with their retarded plots and occasionally disturbingly large genitalia.

And now he sat on a lovely beach besides the most incredible woman that had ever existed, created by a mad scientist, and who wanted to have sex with him because of all this porn. If he wrote about this to one of the magazine being used as kindling, they would reject it and say it was overdone and too unrealistic to print. Their readers had standards, damnit.

It was all was very ironic.

She was biting his ear, playfully, her hand sneaking under his shirt. "Isn't it beautiful?"

* * *

They packed an overnight bag for her stay at the hospital. It started off as a small bag, but by the end, it was bigger than Krillin. "We don't need this."

"But we do need this."

"And that."

"And this."

"Okay, maybe we do need that."

They would take her to Capsule Corp when the time came. Bulma had cleared a specific place for the birth, a specific _clean_ place, and she would be performing it along with her father. They had studied the blueprints and learned that she was mostly normal human ("Except for the lack of heart, ha, kidding, lighten up. It's your soul that's missing.") with some extra added parts that Krillin could neither pronounce nor spell.

"I guess we shouldn't have been calling you guys the androids. The cyborgs would have been more accurate." Juuhachigou hadn't laughed.

She still wasn't laughing, even now a week later. Part of it was the approaching birth, the other was Krillin. He knew that she needed some space, especially since she was pregnant and therefore a _little_ bigger. She was still adjusting to life here, and with him, and sometimes wanted to be alone. But he couldn't leave her. He still had nightmares of their child being used for various sports equipment.

He'd wake up with his face pressed into her stomach and Juuhachigou looking at him with a mixture of amusement and unease. "Do you even remember doing that?"

He shook his head.

"Alright, then. Can you feel the baby?"

He shrugged.

"Okay, well..." Her fingers played with his hair.

"Do you think we have some time before the perverts try peaking in?"

He nodded.

"Even better."

They now understood Bulma's comments about hormones.

And everything seemed okay. Sometimes when he was getting groceries he would feel daggers of eyes on his back and look behind him, and see nothing. But Juunanagou could look all he wanted. Maybe it was his way of checking in on things. But Krillin still wouldn't let him babysit. Not even if actually came up to the new father and actually said something.

He read more books on parenting. He was still sure the one about the mixed species parenting was from one of his friends, but when he would drop hints about it, Piccolo would only stare at him disturbed.

They'd collected plenty of baby stuff. Chi-Chi had given them an entire box of clothes, much of them either clothes Goten had outgrown, or ones that were for girls. She'd sighed, resigned, as she handed them over, and Krillin wondered if a girl or boy would be easier. Yamcha had flown over a bunch of diapers and a stroller, grinning nervously, and then throwing himself into a bush when he heard Juuhachigou's voice.

But they still didn't have a name. Or know what the gender was. "We want to be surprised." Krillin informed Bulma, and ignored her damn raised eyebrows. "I hope that works out well for you and the baby."

'Fuck you, you had a purple-haired kid and named him Trunks' was what Krillin longed to say, and what Juuhachigou actually said after the scientist tried proposing more names, most of which involved her.

"Fine, fine! God, why don't you just name them Marron."

"What?" was Juuhachigou's confused response.

"What?" was Krillin's less confused and more angry response.

"Marron. _Chestnut_." The blue-haired woman hissed out the words.

Juuhachigou looked thoughtful. Before Bulma left the room, she blew him a spite kiss.

"Marron could work."

And Krillin couldn't bring himself to say anything that was honest. "Sure. Maybe Marron would work." And for the first time, prayed that it was a boy.

They disagreed as to what it would be. Juuhachigou was convinced it was a boy, an angry little boy that wouldn't stop kicking her and making her have to go to the bathroom every five minutes. "And he'll look like my brother."

"If he does," Krillin sighed. "We'll still love him."

"We will Juuhachigou," he warned.

He knew it was a girl though. He just knew it instinctively. They were having a daughter.

"And what does this daughter of ours look like, Oh Great, All-Seeing, Krillin?" Her hair was in her face and she lay limply on the couch. She'd just thrown up for the second time in the past hour, this time because she'd taken a whiff of butter.

"Like you."

"Like me?"

"Blonde hair and blue eyes."

"I bet he has your eyes."

"Do you...you know."

"What?"

"Do you think she'll have your nose?"

"I guess." She pushed some of her hair out of her face and took a long look at Krillin. "Not this. Not again."

"But-"

"If they don't have a nose, they'll still look fine. You look fine and you lack a nose." It was as close to a declaration of love as she'd ever said to him.

"But, the taunting-"

"You lived."

"The shame, how hard it is to find sunglasses that actually fit, you just don't understand."

Her snoring interrupted him and he found it too cute to stay angry. He pressed his face comfortingly into her stomach and wondered if the baby could feel or sense him. "Hey, little girl. How are you?"

"I hope we get along."

"And that your uncle stops being crazy."

"And I really, really hope you have a nose."

He stopped when Oolong walked into the room and gave him a weird look.

His friends got along with her well enough. Chi-Chi seemed to open up to Juuhachigou as soon she met her after flying Goten over for Krillin to babysit, and saw the gentle swell of her stomach. The black-haired woman seemed sympathetic toward them for some reason, maybe imagining the early years of her marriage. When Yamcha tried to bring up the androids nearly-mass-murder, she would hit him. She even treated Krillin nicer.

And Krillin got to see Goten more and Juuhachigou seemed to warm up to the boy, even if he looked startling like Goku. Gohan liked Juuhachigou and was sure that she and Krillin were meant to be together forever.

Bulma and Juuhachigou would share clothes and fashion tips and go shopping, and then end up taking swings at each other after Bulma said something about stripes. Then Juuhachigou would insult Vegeta, and Bulma would laugh and make fun of Krillin, and everything would be okay.

She and Vegeta were not exactly friends, but had developed a camaraderie that soldiers shared as they waited for certain death to reign down. Sometimes Bulma and Krillin would end up talking about the good old days, and Vegeta and Juuhachigou would make cracks about their stories, clearly jealous that about all they had missed out. That cool way that he had defeated that really smelly guy, the way Bulma had met Goku and hadn't even known what a girl was, and how she could make Oolong crap himself with just one word, what, why are you guys looking so horrified?

And briefly, they didn't want to kill each other. They were too horrified by what they had married or at least bred into.

"Backwater hillbillies."

"Disgusting, all of you."

Bulma and Krillin laughed together. "It's too late for that now."

"You're one of us."

"Oh, hey, want to hear about how Krillin convinced Roshi to train him? Do you still have that porn stash somewhere?"

Krillin's retort was perfect. "Want to hear about how Yamcha and Bulma met?"

Vegeta still insulted him for being so short and weak, and Krillin still made jokes about his hair and clothes. But after spending a few minutes with their women when they started fighting, they were eager to be far away, even if it was with each other. At least with each other, waiting for the barbeque to finish or just sitting on the couch and watching something stupid, they could just drink and be quiet and have silent breakdowns over the thought of their children.

And Trunks was good practice if Juuhachigou ended up being right about the baby.

She woke him up a month later, shaking his arm roughly until she nearly pulled it out of the socket. "What? What?"

"The baby."

"_What_?" He nearly fell out of bed reaching for the lamp. The sheets strangled him. "The baby?"

"It's coming."

"Are you sure?"

Juuhachigou shook him again. "Yes, I'm sure. Now, unless you're prepared to perform the procedure _right here, get me to Bulma's!" _She shook him again before letting him go. Krillin tried to remember where the bag was. Here, no, here, or was it downstairs?

"Forget it."

"_Forget it_." Her face was pale. She was having contractions and he tried to remind himself that it could be a false, that they had another month and where was _the damn bag_?

"Krillin!"

He knocked over the dresser on the way out. She nearly shoved him down the stairs. The rest of the house awoke and wandered out to watch them struggling and fighting as they made it to the car. "This is your fault, Krillin." The door slammed shut.

After they showed up and had been taken to the room set aside for the birth, he realized that they were still wearing their pajamas. But they were awake and about to have the baby, and they were completely prepared. They gave Juuhachigou a flimsy hospital gown while he ignored the judgmental looks about his bright shirt and sweatpants.

Juuhachigou was breathing in and out, a thing she had originally considered stupid since she hardly needed to breathe at all. He wanted to hold her hand, but he wanted a non-mangled hand a little more. All he could do was tell her to breathe and dodge her blows and scream at Bulma to hurry up, for someone to give Juuhachigou medication. Please. Please.

She threw a stirrup at him.

But the baby wasn't ready to come out and because of Juuhachigou's strange biology they were not going to risk giving her pain meds and have her possible lose consciousness or concentration. So he listened to her screaming for hours and hours and it never stopped having an effect on him.

He'd never seen her in so much pain. Never. He would not have even thought it possible.

"AHHHHH!"

"Oh god, Bulma!'

"AHHHHHHHHHH-KRILLIN, MAKE IT STOP!"

He brushed back the fine hair from her pain filled eyes. She looked so afraid; he felt tears welling in his own eyes. Desperately, he wished he could take her hand with her ripping it off. "It'll be okay, Juu."

Bulma rushed in with a crew of doctors. They all looked very hurried and busy and he hated them without knowing exactly why. Maybe because they had been torn away from golfing and the mother of his child was writhing in agony and there was nothing he could do to help her. "Krillin, get out of here!"

"I'm not leaving her." He rushed to her side, taking her forearm in his hand. Bulma looked at him closely.

"Do I have to call security?"

Juuhachigou stroked his fingers, and he could see sweat rolling off her forehead and the veins on her neck sticking out. "Don't leave." Her voice was young and frightened. He pressed his forehead into hers.

"I won't leave."

"Krillin, this won't be pretty."

"I don't care," he said, defiantly.

"I'm not leaving her side!"

* * *

Hours, perhaps days later, Krillin no longer wondered when the baby was going to come out. It never was. They were stuck in perjury and this was going to go on for all of eternity.

Now, he wondered how anyone could go through this. Juuhachigou hadn't had much of a choice in the matter, and hadn't known that it was going to be this painful. But Chi-Chi, she'd had two children and understood how terrible this birthing business was. How could she do this twice?

He'd stopped counting the hours long ago. But somehow he's managed to throw a television at Vegeta and then had been chased around by the Saiyan, had babysat Trunks at least twice and taught him to count, his alphabet, and the word 'shit', had helped Bulma's father discover a new quantum something on string something theory, decorate a triple-layer cake with Bulma's mother, and had gotten into a fist fight with Bulma three times.

He learned the rough rudimentary of a second language, and cut the talons of both dinosaur and parrot talons. All while running in to check on Juuhachigou every two minutes. His monotonous crying broke up the time until he learned to base things on that:

Juuhachigou pledged to have him murdered, Bulma threw a wrench at him, then he wept, and therefore sixteen hours had passed.

He did another round around the domed building and wondering if Trunks was too young to get started on algebra (and for that matter, if he himself was too old).

Juuhachigou had been screaming for nearly five minutes straight. You could hear her outside the buildings, even when you ran into the backyards and into other people's homes and the nearby shops. He was surprised that her throat hadn't given out.

Krillin ducked back inside, was soon back to ducking blows and hoping she couldn't concentrate long enough to use any ki blasts. She broke another pair of stirrups.

The stupidest things left his mouth, "The baby still in there?"

Her eyes actually turned red.

"I'm going to get more ice chips." The short man threw himself out the doors.

Vegeta looked up from a magazine from a grease stained couch in the hallway.

"Isn't she done yet?" He seemed aggravated. Then he heard Juuhachigou screaming through the heavy, heavy doors. It was her loudest scream yet. Vegeta looked impressed.

The shorter man wanted more than anything to be with her, but it was terrifying and he wore afraid that something would happen specifically when he was there. Yet, he would head back in, no matter how much he wished he could ask the Saiyan to pretend to drag him out of there so he could save face.

Krillin looked over his shoulders nervously. "It might take awhile. Sometimes days."

Vegeta offered no support. The bonds of fatherhood were weak with this one. Krillin headed back inside. He wished for the thousandth time since Goku had died that he was here with him. The Sons were due to arrive soon though and hopefully they would know what to do. He went back inside the room that now resembled a dungeon.

"AHHHHHHHHH!"

She started to sob, but it was in anger. Juuhachigou's face was flushed red. "Make this stop."

"Push, damnit, Juuhachigou. I can see a head."

She was still sobbing, tearless. "NO! IT'S TRYING TO KILL ME!"

Krillin rubbed at his face, feeling tears growing in his eyes and starting to run down his cheeks. He was going to lose both of them, he knew it. The baby was stuck and was going to die and so was Juuhachigou. Never again would he see her smile and he would never get to hold his child, let alone watch them grow up.

He would go back to Roshi's home, and take up wearing a shell and watching porn all day and become like all the other bachelors on that island. Juunanagou would hunt him down and kill him slowly, and that would be a mercy.

He remembered their time together: coughing and spitting out a cough drop onto a sleeping woman's lap and how hard Juuhachigou had laughed, just because the woman had been rude to them. He remembered holding her after she'd been spat out by Cell. He remembered her kissing him for the first time and the set of reactions that event had sent off. He remembered the way the controller had crunched under his foot and the dreams that followed of a blonde angel in his bed that leaned over him and whispered 'was I worth your best friend's life?' He remembered holding her for the first time in their bed, how her unyielding body had slowly become warmed up beneath underneath his. He remembered the nights spent talking about their baby's future.

"It's stuck."

Bulma looked ready to slap someone. Krillin prepared himself to dodge two women's' blows. "Push!"

"NO! IF IT WANTS OUT IT CAN FIND ANOTHER WAY!"

Bulma was pressing against her pelvis. "This baby. This baby will come out." She sounded like a god giving a command. Juuhachigou was pushing and screaming, "Goddamnit, GET OUT OF ME!"

"JUST GET OUT!"

It was contagious, and Krillin felt himself yelling at Juuhachigou, at the baby, at Bulma and the doctors, at the world. "JUST STOP BEING TERRIBLE FOR ME!"

And the baby listened.

It popped right out.

Screaming nearly as loud as its mother, covered in mucus and blood. Hideous and gorgeous. It was a little girl, Krillin saw, before a doctor whiskered her off to be cleaned. He felt almost robbed, empty and could barely rub at his wet face. How must Juuhachigou have felt? They were taking her to the little nursery they'd set up in the corner of the room. Juuhachigou was asking over and over again "Is it okay, is it okay?"

Krillin nearly flew to her side, and took her hand. "It's okay, the baby is okay. It's a girl. J.J. She's perfect."

Bulma popped up with a needle. "This'll help." And injected her with it.

Juuhachigou's hand was growing loose in his, and he wondered if she even knew she'd given birth anymore, her eyes were so glassy.

He caught sight of the baby lying in some plastic bin that probably really expensive and exotic. She was wrapped in a pink towel. Huge dark eyes and fluffy blonde hair. Perfect, even without the nose. She seemed to be taking it all in, probably wondering who that barely conscious blonde woman was and who was this weirdo who was cooing and poking at her, and what was with this room and all these people in white coats?

"Hey, baby."

"Hey, baby," he poked her stomach lightly. He pulled a ridiculous face that he'd seen Bulma doing with Trunks. She looked appalled_. Juuhachigou's_ appalled.

"Hey, there little girl."

"Do you know me, your Daddy?"

"Are you ready to party kiddo? Are you ready to rock?"

She was gazing up at him. Krillin picked her up, noticing how she weighted nothing. She was looking at him with a big pair of black eyes and he nearly melted. He literally couldn't express how much he loved her. There were no words. The only way he could attempt to describe it was that he would rip his own arm off to make this tiny thing happy.

There was only a light pressure in his chest that reminded him of holding Juuhachigou for the first time. All he could do was not burst into sobs over how precious she was. The axis of the entire universe shifted to her. Someone snapped a picture. "Hey, wanna see your mom?"

Juuhachigou's face was nearly waxy and she was just barely there. He'd never seen her look so out of it, even when Cell had spat her comatose body out. Just like that moment, however, she was still incredible.

"Is that the baby?" Juuhachigou slurred.

"Yes, here she is." Carefully, Krillin lowered her into Juuhachigou's arms. "And it's a girl, and she lacks a nose. Look how right I was."

She was smiling. "Well, she's still beautiful, so I still win."

Then she started to cry, her hair hanging in face as she turned away from him to hide the tears. Krillin pressed his face against her shoulder near the baby. She, Marron, Krillin guessed, was looking up at them, amazed. "It's okay. It's okay." 'These people who cry more than me are my parents?' Krillin imagined the baby thinking.

The doctors were leaving the room. Bulma was pulling off her gloves and beaming. "That went well, don't you think?"

His head pressed into the side of the bed, and everything was dark for a long time.

* * *

The paperwork was spread out before them. Juuhachigou had barely glanced at it; she couldn't take her eyes from the baby. They could not take their eyes from each other. And Krillin couldn't take his eyes from them. His family.

"Now, what do you want to call her?"

He glanced at the new mother. "Marron. Right?" Juuhachigou nodded, still not moving her eyes from the baby's.

Bulma nodded happily and began filling things out. Krillin signed where he was told, feeling like a responsible parent. A father signing things for his child. He felt disbelief that he could do such a thing, that he had done such a thing. He had a daughter.

Juuhachigou signed everything one handed and sloppily since she couldn't look at the papers.

"Look at her fingers," she sounded shocked. "Look at how tiny her fingers are."

Krillin laughed and stroked the baby's velvet hair. "My god, she's so perfect."

"And her feet. Those tiny feet."

"And those eyes. She has your eyes." Juuhachigou kissed his fingers resting on her shoulder. Her gaze was still intently focused on the child.

Krillin kissed her forehead. "She has your hair."

"She's so_ small_." She seemed impressed by Marron's small size and yet how healthy she was. When the baby grinned up at her, she smiled back. Her long white fingers touched the baby's soft hair.

"When can we take her home?" Krillin asked Bulma.

"Pretty soon. We just need to do some tests on her to make sure everything's fine."

Gohan entered the room. Chi-Chi followed, carrying little Goten. "Is that the baby?"

Juuhachigou gave them a small smile. "It's a girl."

They both cooed over it. Even Goten looked at her with interest. Krillin imagined them playing together, just being normal kids for once, him tailed and with an alien father who'd died twice and her with her android mother and noseless father and all.

By the end of the day, nearly everyone had seen the baby. Bulma awwed over her, but Trunks didn't look very interested and only waved at the baby.

Even Tien and Chaotzu stopped by, tracking in pine needles and melting snow. They nodded with an awkward formality, then filled the room with ballons and stuffed animals.

Yamcha came in, flinching a little and trying to hide behind a giant stuffed bear whenever Juuhachigou looked at him. The scarred ex-bandit didn't quite know how to reconcile his image of the blonde woman as a cold hearted machine who was just a step above her brother on the sociopath scale, and this woman here who thanked him kindly for the stuffed animal. When she held Marron, smiling sweetly and looking like any other new mother, Yamcha looked amazed.

Piccolo stopped by shortly, and consented to holding the child, though briefly. The sight of the tiny infant in his huge arms was so adorable Krillin had to take a picture and then run around the room clutching the camera close as Piccolo threatened to dismember him.

Vegeta looked at her for a few moments, standing above her cradle so quickly that it took Krillin a few seconds to realize what he was seeing. Then said that he hoped for the brat's sake that she looked less like Krillin when she grew older before walking off. But he nodded to Juuhachigou before he left, as though commiserating another part of their new found humanity that a child brought.

Juunanagou came in one afternoon, when the sun was setting and light the color of blood and ki flooded through the windows. His blue oversized jacket was ridiculous and his clothes were smeared with sap. Krillin assumed that either a telekinetic twin bond had told him that his sister had given birth, or perhaps a wise magical deer had informed him. He sneered at Krillin, then stopped dead, catching sight of the baby. His face became amazed. "Is that it?"

'No, it's the other newborn,' Krillin wished he could say. But he was full of too much goodness just being around the baby. She was a tiny beam of light and he could only smile around her. He nearly hugged Juunanagou, which might have resulted in bloodshed. Or not. The baby had a miraculous way of making everything better.

Slices of the purest blue met each other. The temperature dropped twenty degrees. A family reunion.

"I see you've become one of them."

Juuhachigou stared at him warily. It had been a struggle for her to let go of the baby with people whom she trusted. But, she sighed and willing let her brother hold her. "Just don't wave a gun around her."

"What's she called?"

"Marron's her name."

"She's so tiny." He was smiling gently. Krillin could see the resemblance between the twins again. "She looks okay though, considering."

"Hi, Marron." And then Krillin was willing to invite Juunanagou to their home on the holidays again.

* * *

His eyes were red, Krillin could sense. Even without a mirror he knew they were bloodshot and unfocused. Next to him, Juuhachigou snored contently. She'd stolen the blankets again, Krillin noticed, displeased.

He blinked, slowly, nearly feeling his dry eyes rasping. The clock on the bedside table read 3:13 in burning red colors that bleared into the darkness. A minute passed. His eyes grew heavy. The baby began to cry.

So did Juuhachigou. She had a unique way of crying. Her eyes would snap shut and her hands would ball up to cover her eyes, and her forehead would crinkle and become full of furrows. The pale face would go red and her mouth would set in a hard line. She cried like a child just beginning to discover shame in their tears.

It would make him cry just watching her.

Krillin's own tears came forth without a pause. Like a faucet being turned on. And he had a hard time stopping the flow. His face would hardly flush and his vision would become blurry and his mouth would be open and loose. He was hardly ashamed of his emotions for the most part, although sometimes he thought he should be more closed as his friends were. But then, look at how they'd turned out.

Usually, when one of them was in tears in bed, it was a compliment to the other. It had been a long time since they'd complimented each other.

From somewhere else in the house, he heard yelling.

They were too tired to fight. With them, there was no pushing off of duties. They were both martyrs.

"I'll get her," Krillin whispered.

She rubbed at her eyes. "Thank you."

So Krillin got back up again.

It was becoming just them against the baby. Friends that had once come by to visit came down with mysterious flues that only occurred after the new parents dialed their numbers.

Juunanagou no longer stopped by. "He's avoiding my calls." Juuhachigou said grimly, dropping the phone.

"He's avoiding having to babysit again."

On the bright side:

Juuhachigou found a new weapon to use against the perverts on the island. They couldn't ask them to leave because without Krillin, who would get the groceries? So the blonde android could bargain with them. "We'll take her to Chi-Chi's tomorrow, but only if you leave us alone this Saturday."

And when Juuhachigou was pissed, all you had to do was direct her attention to the baby and you could escape.

Although, it was odd to listen to her hissing curses and threats as she spoke sweetly to the infant.

"I'll chain you up and leave your body for your damn turtles to feed off of," her voice would then turn to velvet instead of razors. "Oh, look at her smiling."

She would hold the baby and her voice was sweet and motherly as she would describe what she would do to after she caught you looking through the keyhole, and where she would leave parts of your body.

"Your skull I'll nail above the door to warn others, sweetie, are you hungry?"

Then her gaze would go soft slowly, and you would flee.

Or, if you were Roshi or Oolong or just plain stupid, you would stay and attempt to catch of glimpse of her breastfeeding.

And the baby was nice too. Very cuddly and adorable, although her taste in television and movies was questionable at best and she couldn't hold a decent conversation at all. And the changing of diapers was not exactly a pleasant duty.

His footsteps were heavy as he stumbled to his daughter's room.

It hadn't always been like this.

The first few weeks it had been peaceful. Juuhachigou and him and even felt superior. Their friends had warned them that they wouldn't be able to have a full night's sleep for the next five years, but clearly they'd been wrong. Marron, she was ahead of the curve. They preened at each other as they awoke at a reasonable hour after having a full night's sleep.

Then she began crying.

It wasn't a sickness, any ear infection or wet diaper. She would just cry and want her parents to cater to her every whim, even if she couldn't yet express or know what exactly those were. Even when they let the baby sleep between them in bed, she would still be up all night. Juuhachigou would sometimes stare at Master Roshi's liquor, at Marron's bottle, then look away guiltily.

Once, she'd bounced the baby on her lap for three hours, and not once did Marron tire. Juuhachigou was exhausted before the giggling child showed any sign of being bored.

Krillin took her for car rides, truck rides, flew with her, took her to a Ferris wheel after bribing a worker there. The baby would only laugh at his defeated face.

They were slaves to her, on threat of lack of sleep. Neither could stand listening to her cry, even if she wasn't in discomfort.

He opened the door slowly.

Marron looked at him, the fetal squint completely gone. She smiled.

No. She smirked. _Juunanagou's_ smirk.

"You know exactly what you're doing, don't you?" Krillin asked her casually. He half expected a deep maniacal voice to answer from the depths of the pink crib.

She looked up at him, big dark eyes.

Marron was a human sack of flour. Yet, Krillin still had a feeling that she was quite aware. In this hour, anything was possible. Happy animals leered at him from the wallpaper. He remembered putting them up on a happier day, the sun shining and Juuhachigou purposely dripping adhesives and strips of wallpaper onto his head. "You're just doing this because grounding you would be pointless."

"Aren't you?"

She gurgled.

"Juuhachigou?"

There was a long pause as Krillin stared deep into the black of the hallway.

"What?"

"Come here," he tried to keep his voice convincing. "I think she's hungry."

Juuhachigou was a firm believer of the disease-preventing mother's milk. Chi-Chi had scared it into her. "Oh, but you have to breastfeed!" After taking a look at Gohan and remembering all he'd survived, then what Goten would roll around in without consequences, the blonde woman believe her completely.

"...give her formula."

"Juuhachigou!"

The baby began to weep. "You see? She wants her mommy!"

A horrible hiss echoed down the house. If he wasn't so used to it, and so sleep deprived, it might have sent him cowering. "_You be the mommy, goddamnit_."

Misery loved company. If he was up, so would Juuhachigou. The entire world would be awoken. "I'm sick of being the mommy! At least feed her!"

"She's not even hungry, _you liar_." She sounded again like the woman who had been created to destroy all life from the planet. Krillin rolled his bloodshot eyes.

Marron continued to cry.

"Damnit, I swear if you two keep this up, I'm going to start charging rent!"

Krillin raised a bottle high and nearly let it fly when he realized what he was doing. Aghast, he let it drop and then fell to his knees. The baby gurgled and laughed at his broken expression. Against everything, he found himself smiling back at her.

She had his eyes and her hair, his goofy smile, and was darling. He felt all that anger falling away. "Hey, Juu, look at her, she's trying to grab her feet!"

Her mother immediately ran into the room with the camera. "Is she doing it?"

"There she goes."

They 'awwed' together.

And then everything was okay again.

He even found a way to escape, even though it was another way of exhausting his precious reserves. Goten was experiencing his first sickness, and Chi-Chi needed help. Gohan ended up catching something and Krillin had to haul himself over to their house to help out. Piccolo was trying to help, but Chi-Chi kept throwing things at him and yelling at him. Currently, the former monk was on speed dial and Chi-Chi could hit the numbers quicker than her sons' could throw up.

Juuhachigou was jealous. Not that she disliked the Sons, or even missed Krillin. She just wanted a buffer.

"That's right." She sat on a rocking chair, the baby in her arms. "Go on to your other family. While we wait here, alone."

"We know who you care about more. Don't we baby?"

Marron giggled and reached for her mother. The blonde mother's expression turned soft, and Krillin slipped out to help Chi-Chi.

His respect for the widowed woman had increased since the baby had been born. She seemed to know all the tricks of the trade, although she had a tendency to think she was always right, and kept bringing up making 'Juuhachigou an honest woman.' He'd give her a vage reply, deciding not to tell her that once he'd gotten down on his knees, tore his heart open by telling her how much he loved and adored her, and asked for her hand in marriage. Juuhachigou had yelled at him to get up and hand her another diaper because Marron had completely destroyed the one she had been wearing.

He immediately was up and sliding a fresh diaper onto his daughter. She giggled instead of fought, and Juuhachigou gave him a sour look. "You don't want to get married then?"

"I don't see the point. We have a child, we don't pay taxes and there's no property to divide. If one of us is hurt, we have Dende heal us, so no need for the hospital and spousal privileges."

It was remarkable, how bloodlessly she'd taken apart his romantic image of marriage. "What about a wedding."

"I don't want one of those. Having to wear a ridiculous dress and stand there while your friends stare on and ruin an entire buffet. I think I'll skip that for once. Bad enough I have to see it every time we visit your little friends."

"Oh, come on, we don't need to be married." Then she touched his shoulder, gently, moving up to stroke his chin. "How about this, I'll say yes if you agree to change all the diapers from now on."

Marriage was overrated. They didn't need a piece of paper to show their love. No rings would truly show how much they loved each other as their daughter did.

The house was dark as he returned. Everyone appeared asleep.

He crept into the house, carefully closing the door. It was sweet, sweet silence inside.

Krillin hung his coat up neatly. A pen, one of Gohan's, fell from his pocket.

Marron began crying.

He crawled halfway into the nursery.

Juuhachigou was holding the baby, and he nearly wept in relief. She was humming to her, and he'd never seen anything so wonderful. Only the tears rolling down her face ruined the beautiful scene.

"Juuhachi?"

"What kind of mother am I Krillin?"

He ran to her. "A great one."

"I wasn't created to be a mother. When I found out, I was pregnant I didn't believe it. And then I did, finally when I felt her ki. I wanted to blow everything I saw apart. I wanted to kill you. I thought that the baby would die, that there was no way I could even carry her. But then, she lived."

"I can't do any of this."

Krillin pulled back, confused.

"I just love you two so much. And I have no idea how to do this."

He touched her shoulder, gently. "Neither do I."

"What if I hurt one of you? I can't do any of this. You know how to be human." Juuhachigou pulled away. "How can I be a mother to her when I'm _not even human?"_

"You are human."

"I'm not." She turned away. "You wished away a bomb that was implanted in me away, for God's sake."

"Even if you weren't human...Vegeta's not human."

Her voice cracked as she laughed dryly. "That makes me feel so much better."

"He's not. But he still loves his son. Humanity doesn't have anything to do with blood."

"That's easy for you to say."

He touched Marron's head gently. She burbled at him, and smiled. "If you weren't human, do you think you could have given birth to her?"

Juuhachigou looked closely at Marron for a long time. "She has your eyes," she said, eventually.

The blonde woman held Marron close. Her blue irises were milky in the streaming moonlight. "I think I'll stay up a little longer. Just in case she gets hungry."

Krillin kissed her cheek. "Alright." He paused at the doorway. "You know...you know..." The short man plucked at the light switch.

Juuhachigou was smiling and looking straight into his face. He felt incredibly vulnerable, and knew she felt the same.

"I love you too."

Her eyes never left his. "I know."

"Alright then." He turned around, not wanting her to see the tears, or his grin.

"Okay."

"Goodnight, then."

"Sure."

"Krillin? There's something I have to ask you."

The dark-haired man glanced over his shoulder. "Hmm?"

"Was this all because of that stupid kiss I gave you on that highway?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

"I guess it doesn't matter."

"Nope. Love you, babe."

He could hear the smile in her voice. "Love you too."


	2. The Ones With The Craziness Part One

~~ The One(s) with The Craziness

Part One

aka, The One with The Too Many Meetings

* * *

When she saw him again, and then _again_, it was at a mall. He was with a woman, blue-haired and yelling at someone on her phone, a toddler between them. They'd been shopping apparently and his surprised look was replaced by a grin so cheerful that he should have been slapped.

He could barely see over the boxes in his arms, but he saw her and by then it was too late to disappear into the crowds. Still, she tried.

"Hey, Juuhachigou!"

"Miss Juuhachigou!"

The blue-haired woman ('Bulma' the word flashes across her eyes smugly) gave a sharp look toward her direction, though her screams continued, unchanged in volume or tone.

She ended up fleeing into a lingerie shop, a place that she knew instinctively he would not follow her into. Still, she ended up hiding behind a mannequin. People were staring, yet Juuhachigou knew it was worth it. Then she left and walked into him at the food court.

This was not the first time they'd met in a place that they shouldn't have. It wasn't that the android had something against him, in particular, but she doubted his friends were alright with seeing her again and might try to attack her and her brother. It was self-preservation. So she ended up crawling through windows far more than an android that was design to wipe human off the face of the planet should.

They kept running into each other.

What made it worse was, it wasn't his fault.

She could see the confusion on his face when they ran into each other, at the store, in the parking lot, at a bar. In a club she'd fled into after seeing a short bald man parking his car, right before she'd stumbled upon Krillin sitting there drinking a glass of something she bet wasn't even alcohol.

In the woods, somehow, while he and Gohan went hunting to form some stupidly manly bond that involved shooting at things. Juunanagou ended up nearly shooting him and claiming that he'd thought he was a rabbit.

In another club with Juunanagou acting obnoxious and spazzing out, the volume of the music turned to a ear-bleeding degree, strobe lights flashing long enough to blind you if not cause a seizure, people in terrible shiny clothes, there he was. He was with his friends this time, and from his jeans and sweatshirt and uncomfortable expression, he'd been dragged there. They both did a double-take at the same time. She began walking away before he could ask her for a drink, and after imagining him asking for a dance, started to run.

In another store. She went over to him. His color choices were so bad; it was an act of mercy to pull that pair of green pants out his hands. "No." And then she hit him with them. And then handed him a nice pair of jeans.

In a salon, before she learned he'd grown his hair out. She'd nearly dragged him out of his chair until she saw the stubble darkening his scalp. "Why do you need your hair styled?" She'd asked, aghast. "No. Don't answer that."

In a crowded restaurant she'd heard good things about, where they were directed by a hurried hostess to please make yourself comfortable, but this is the only table available, have a free entree on the house.

"You heard about their bisque," he'd asked, tinged with something akin to bitterness. His eyes were focused on the unopened menu on the table before him.

"Of course."

She went out the front, him the back.

A few days later, looking for her wayward brother, she'd stumbled onto a coffee shop with gray Capsule Corp computers lining the walls. Curious, she'd walked over to them and handed over a few zeni over to a much too helpful worker. Somehow, Juuhachigou ended from looking at outfits online to logging onto a chat room.

SixdotMonk immediately began trying to communicate with her. After she got over his ridiculous pen name, she found herself almost laughing aloud at his remarks. He was witty enough to almost make her forget that she was talking to someone online and was supposed to be looking for her brother.

"I'm here because I got bored with looking for my retarded brother and wandered into an internet cafe."

"Well, I'm trying to get over someone. That's why I'm here."

"Girlfriend?"

"No, just a girl. She definitely wasn't interested."

Feeling bold, Juuhachigou typed out, "Her loss then, obviously."

"Heh. Thanks." Followed by a happy face.

This was exactly what she needed, a distraction from her confusing life. Even if, god knows, this guy turned out to be a psycho. "If she couldn't see what a nice funny guy you are, then you're better off."

"Thank, but she's really amazing though, too. I just wish I could have gotten to know her better."

"What happened?"

"Well. Uh. She's not really in my life is all. Well. She sort of is. But on accident. It's complicated. And her brother's a weirdo too."

"Why do you even like her?"

"She's incredible. She's…angelic. She's confident and strong and there's just something about her eyes."

"Have you thought about seeing a therapist?"

"I just wish that I didn't like her so much. All she did was kiss my on the cheek and that was enough. Pretty sad, huh?"

'Yeah,' she was about to type. Then block him and find someone new to talk to. Or look for a nice skirt.

A forbidding sensation dawned on her. His screen name. His stupid screen name.

Numb, her fingers tapped the keyboard keys lightly. "krillin is that you"

There was a very short pause. His words were followed by the annoying ding noise that accompanied a new message, "…oh my god Juuhachigou?"

She logged off immediately and left the shop. Her brother would show up when he showed up. She had her own life; she couldn't be expected to babysit him. She went home, and felt filthy no matter how hot she ran the shower.

He'd even typed out the ellipses.

* * *

They were never near each other. Never in the same neighborhood, never just blocks from each other. She flew hours and hours, away from him, only to find him picking out melons and being forced to try to hide behind a bin of potatoes. Even cyberspace, it turned out, could not keep them from meeting.

By the time the restaurant incident happened, she was tired. Her energy was limitless, but his shrugs and smiles made her weary. She cared nothing for his sad little crush. If it had been only that, she could have ignored him altogether, but there was something more than a simple attraction to her. Those stupid wishes...and that controller. And those big puppy dog eyes.

Only the fact that she was so used to running and ducking from him kept her from simply going up to him and sharing a cart. Maybe he could help her discover which guavas were a better choice and she could help with his cantaloupe situation.

His clothes were always different. Instead of the orange gi and blue shirt underneath, she would find him in jeans, the ones she'd picked out for him of course, and she took some pride in that. Or in a pair of cord parts, in green shirts and black pants, with khakis, and with a baseball cap and then a fedora that was the stupidest thing she'd ever seen.

When his hair grew out, it was impossible to detect him. He was just short enough to hide behind isles and plain enough to appear a _second_ later in crowds, yet was just..._Krillin_ enough to stick out.

She despised him. Then she would wonder why he was shopping with that woman and if whose baby was it that needed the formula he was trying to pick out while she watched him from behind a magazine stand at a grocery store. Why were his clothes so casual and mismatched? And that hair. What was with the hair.

A voice spoke up in these times when she was all too aware that she didn't really need sleep, and would just lay there in bed:

_You will see him again. _

Maybe, go someplace where you can expect to possibly see him. Not that island, that was much too close. But he was friends with the woman who owned Capsule Corp. Wasn't it possible he spent time near there? It sounded so illogical it might work. The first place she stopped at was a bar, even if she didn't want a taste of alcohol.

At noon, it was clean and nearly devoted of people. Except for him.

Krillin dropped his soda. It was a sickly looking purple, grape, her files read, his favorite, damn Dr. Gero, and it fit him completely. She shook her head, denying his existence. He needed to comb his hair out more. Or shave it, that was better because then she wouldn't think terrible things about yanking and pulling and running her fingers through it. Or...it would make him more noticeable and she could avoid him easier. Yes, that was what she was thinking.

She mouthed the words, 'no' over and over again and he looked confused.

Again?

When she left, blank-faced with horror, he was ordering a whiskey. A double.

This will be the last time she swore to herself that night, laying in a puddle of moonlight, blankets and hatred. The last time.

And then she saw him again, sitting down to some stupid god-awful movie, her brother buying candy. There was hardly anyone in the audience, a clear sign of how bad this movie was going to be. She looked over and he was in the next aisle with Gohan and wearing a stupid button-down shirt. Black jeans that were nice and fit him pretty well. He'd taken her advise when it came to pants. _He's not even good-looking, _a voice of reason screamed. Sadly, it sounded like her brother.

_He's short. He lacks a nose. He's __**weak. **__He has terrible taste in movies._

But maybe he was there for Gohan? And the light blue and green checked shirt made his eyes and hair stand out. _And the fabric clings nicely to his chest and shoulders_. No, she did not just think that. His mouth was full of popcorn and he chewed very slowly. Then he glanced over at her.

The lips she bet was buttery and greasy mouthed the words "What. The. Fuck." She was surprised he even knew that word.

Gohan waved.

Hadn't she been expecting this, all along?

Someone slid next to her. When she nearly flew a foot in the air and spilled popcorn into her lap, she blamed Krillin again. Somehow in these moments she could only see his wide-eyes and everything else would blur and blend together. Even her other half. "You cannot believe what they were charging for Slurpees."

Her brother would rip his head off and there would be a fight right there amongst the spilled popcorn and overpriced candy fallen to the floor, the terrible dialogue and special effects the backdrop to the massacre. Blood would fall all over everyone and the other people would think it was a gimmick at first. They would all laugh, as Gohan launched himself at Juunanagou and murder him before turning to her. She would die with popcorn kernels in her teeth.

Juunanagou waved back.

Gohan motioned them over, apparently not seeing Juuhachigou and Krillin's faces. They were both in shock and disbelief. He'd probably taken Gohan out to this random theater in hopes that they wouldn't run into each other. So. He was avoiding _her_.

Noseless weak _human shrimp_.

And of course they stood to leave the theater at the same time. They went through separate doors, at the least. The car Juunanagou had stolen parked right next to presumably his, her brother's green while his was red. They almost talked. The words were right on the tips of their tongues.

'This is fucked up.'

Later, it occurred to her that they'd abandoned Juunanagou and Gohan completely. And without normal transportation.

It was no longer cute, as if it had ever been. Could it really be a coincidence. She wanted to blame him, but that guileless face could hold no lies. He wasn't following her. Maybe _he_ thought she was following him? Damnit, she would not be a stalker in any hypothetical situations. Especially fones that ran through Krillin's empty head and never mind why she cared.

Why did this keep happening?

The idea came to her one night.

That weird place in the sky with the Namek, where she'd awoken to find Cell dead, to lose the bomb inside her, to have her brother mistaken for her boyfriend (_for god's sake Krillin_), and to almost properly meet the man that fate kept tossing her next to. They would know what to do.

* * *

When she landed on the clean white stone, she saw the small Namek talking to a man not much taller than himself.

"This is what I'm talking about!" He motioned to her, almost accusingly. The android could take no offense. Later she could summon anger for him, but right now she was becoming a little worried. What if things became even worse, the situations increasing, the places shrinking in size and escape variations until they were literally trapped in a room together?

"We need answers."

The Namek raised his hands defensively. "I don't know anything about this."

"Really?"

"What's happening?" Krillin's eyes were almost wounded. For a second she wished she could hate him.

"There's nothing I can do." the green-skinned man shrugged politely. "I don't even think the dragonballs could help with this." What a nonanswer. A complete huge lack of resolution. She was not surprised.

Neither could say anything and nodded when he excused himself.

Together, they looked out into the blue sky. If they tried to jump off it, they were run into each other on the way. Mutual suicide might be the answer, however.

"Maybe Bulma could help," he said quietly.

"How?"

"There must be an answer."

"Somewhere." He balled his fists and tried to look heroic. He failed miserably. "You know," Krillin paused. "It's not like I don't want to not see you."

She looked harder onto the uncaring blue sky. Her legs were longer; maybe she could beat him over the edge. "Yes. Well."

"Should we just...you know, stop trying?"

"How can we do that?"

"Just give in."

"Go into the light," she said grimly. He nodded. God. What had she been thinking? If they killed themselves, they would be buried right next to each other, probably in complimenting caskets and clothes.

Or worse. She could almost hear people at their joint funeral. "A lover's suicide, I hear. They just couldn't stand to be away from each other. I guess they'll have eternity together."

He really wasn't much larger than her except a little around the shoulders. They were probably not far off in sizes. She wondered if he had anything in more plain colors. Something with stripes, maybe? If they were going to be 'together' at least she could double her wardrobe. She would find better clothes for him, ones that actually fit and brought attention to the contrast of his light skin and dark hair. And she would burn that fedora. "What else can we do?"

"So." Juuhachigou sighed. "Dinner?"

"The place with the bisque."

"Yep."

"I never got around to trying that place."

"Yeah. I know."

"How?"

"Because I never went back there."


	3. The One With The Night Out

The One With The Night Out

* * *

'Girl's Night Out' sounded like such a harmless phrase, and she had no idea such a simple thing could hold so much horror. If she'd had even the slightest idea of what this night would involve, she most certainly would not have gone along with it. She would have run in the opposite direction and never stopped.

Bulma had this cackle that reminded her of Vegeta's and it worsened the more she drank. "So what if he's short?"

"He's big where it counts!"

Juuhachigou tried to hide her shudder, and failed.

Chi-Chi was more relaxed than the android had ever seen her. "I shouldn't drink," she said, as she drank. "I have to watch the boys tomorrow." She motioned to the bartender for more.

"Goku, now, there's a man who knows what to do. Even when he doesn't."

The blonde woman had no idea what that meant, and hoped she never would.

Bulma nudged the other woman. It was a terrible parody of that man Yamcha. "He's the generous type, huh? Huh?"

"Oh, definitely." They clinked glasses and Juuhachigou wondered if she should drown herself in liquor or to stay sober until the others passed out. Could she crawl out of a window in the bathroom? She'd tried to in the restaurant they'd just left (or rather, been asked to leave on threat of calling security/police) after Bulma had threatened to disembowel the bartender for not asking for ID, but for some reason when she tried to go into the bathroom, the other woman had followed her. She would have thought it was a conspiracy to watch her and make sure she didn't escape, but they just gabbed in front of the mirror and added more lipstick.

"So," Bulma and the other woman exchanged glances. Disturbing glances. "How are you doing on that front?"

"What front?"

Chi-Chi's eyebrows raised and something very human spoke up in the android. 'Run' it said.

"You know. Krillin."

Bulma spoke up. "And you."

Her voice lowered dangerously; she would make this stop. "What _about _Krillin and me."

They gave her identical disbelieving looks. "You don't need to lie to us."

"I mean, we like Krillin. He's a good guy."

Neutrally, Chi-Chi agreed. "Good guy."

The android looked at them closely. "What?"

"Well," Bulma opened and closed her mouth. "Well, I'm a little curious."

"I mean, I can't talk since look at who I married, but..."

Chi-Chi finally stopped beating around the bush. "Why him, exactly?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why Krillin?"

"Why Krillin what?"

"Why him?"

"What?"

"He's," the other women shared a look. Had they been planning this the whole time? To ask something nonsensical about their friend? "Sort of. Short."

"And uh. The nose situation."

"The voice, too."

"Seriously, the nose thing. What's up with that?"

"I don't know anything about the...nose situation." There was this feeling in her stomach. It was anger, indignation, but over what exactly, she didn't know. Although, a part of her _was_ curious about his lack of a nose.

"And the bad jokes."

"It's just, we're curious. You're sort of not his type." The scientist sipped her drink. "But, then, there was Marron."

"Ah. Her." They looked at each other darkly.

"Who?" Juuhachigou could barely understand what they were talking about.

"She was, if you wanted to be nice about it-"

"A ditz?"

"Yes. But kind of, almost, pretty."

Bulma nodded reluctantly. "Sure. If you're into that kind of thing."

"What?"

"And I guess if she and Krillin were together-"

"WHAT?"

"Then I guess you and him make sense."

Chi-Chi shook her head. "I had no idea Krillin was such a ladies' man." She looked thoughtful as she played with her straw. "Maybe I shouldn't Gohan spend so much time with him.

"You just don't expect to see Krillin with someone like you."

Juuhachigou felt warm all over, from her building rage. "What does that mean?"

"You're, you know, blonde and pretty and Krillin is-"

"Not."

"Of course, he isn't. He's a pathetic shrimp of a man who lacks a nose. He's ugly and-" Her voice was too loud. She remembered going to Capsule Corp this morning, to make Krillin happy, and the complete lack of fear she'd gotten from his friends. Only Yamcha had flinched at her. Disappointing as it was relieving. Then the women cornering her, 'why don't we go out and have a Girl's Night Out'. Who the fuck was Marron?

"He's not_ that _bad."

The blue-haired scientist nodded and sipped at her drink. "Krillin, he's a good guy. No need to be ashamed."

The voice spoke up louder. _'Run_!" She understood none of this. "Of what. Ashamed of what?"

"No need to be defensive, either." Chi-Chi waved her glass in her face. "Krillin would make a good father."

"Oh, yeah! Definitely not like Vegeta, who's never around." They rolled their eyes simultaneously. "And Goku, what about him?"

And now the discussion was looping back to how crappy their husbands were. Juuhachigou would have been willing to pay for either their marriage counselor or divorce attorney at this point, if it made them shut up. The blonde android had a sinking sensation that she knew what the other women were talking about when they talked about her and Krillin. Together.

That was so much about what humans discussed, that _act_. The act of procreation that continued their species. Although, from the magazines she saw piled up at Roshi's house, and from what she'd seen on television, it wasn't solely to create more life. Which she could almost understand theoretically about all that, relationships and that...mutual touching for pleasure. Theoretically.

"...just awful, he'd never around. Sometimes, I just need someone to talk to, you know." Bulma pressed her hand against Juuhachigou's. "But Krillin, he's a man you can depend on."

The dark-haired woman nodded. "You don't have to worry about him running off to fight in every fight."

"He'll be a good husband."

The voice shrieked, _'Run_, run now and **never return**.'

But she remained sitting. Too shocked to run, she guessed. And a horrible human part of her was curious. She...she'd certainly never talked about anything like this with someone before. This was really not a subject she could bring up with her brother, who covered his ears and began yelling threats everytime she brought Krillin up, even if it was only to say "Krillin wanted to know if you wanted help setting up the rain gutters."

And she definitely couldn't talk to Krillin. He was sensitive, yes, and could be very emotion and _beyond _effeminate sometimes. Krillin would cry over sad parts in books or movies, would pick flowers to brighten the kitchen, and then throw on a ridiculous apron and cook them dinner. Did that make him the weaker, more romantically aware of the pair?

But then, he was the one who would fix anything that broke, and she was the one who actually cared about what she wore and looked like, opposed to him rolling out of bed and throwing whatever he could find on. She would comb her hair while he would barely run his hand through it. Juuhachigou actually tried to decorate the rooms, while he had decided that a futon was enough. Krillin had more muscles, but on the other hand, she could rip his arm out of his socket with no more effort than it took to uproot a dandelion.

She wondered if he knew more about this sex and relationship stuff than she did. Juuhachigou thought on that, and knew immediately that he did not. "What do you mean, 'a good husband'?"

"He'll be there for you."

"He won't disappear and die for no reason, leaving you with two children and _no father_!"

Bulma patted Chi-Chi's shoulder, comfortingly. "And I bet he'll do his husbandly duty, too." They both cackled.

Juuhachigou drained her glass and waved it over her head. "Going to need another round over here!"

It took another long drag before she could speak. "'Duty'?"

They cackled again.

Lately she no longer really noticed, really, the 'nose situation' and didn't mind the shortness. There was something about his wide eyes and face that made her want to slam him into a wall, yet not really want to hurt him. She wanted to pull at his hair and kick him and the run away and have him chase her. She wanted to poison his food and then make him better. She wanted to sleep next to him, watch him dreaming about her and smiling drowsily, and then suffocate him with a pillow.

She swallowed. "Have you, have either of you wanted to beat a guy up, but not really hurt him?"

"Oh yeah, all the time. If I had a nickel for every time I took a swing at him..."

"Sure. That's my entire relationship with Vegeta. Except for the part about not really hurting him."

* * *

Hours later, they stumbled out into the cold, cold air. Behind them the bartender was still screaming and threatening to call the cops. Juuhachigou nearly shivered, especially when the world shifted under her feet. Her vest and t-shirt provided little comfort and while normally she felt little difference between the cold and heat, the vodka had turned her insides to ice. "Maybe we should call someone?"

"Who, Krillin?" The other woman laughed while she glowered at them. It was the alcohol to blame. That was why she'd said some unfortunate things and asked too many questions.

Her cheeks and ears were warm for some reason. "Well, yes, he'd come get us."

"You, maybe." Bulma waved drunkenly in front of a taxi and nearly fell into the street. It honked and kept going, if faster than before. Chi-Chi was stumbling around and laughing. Juuhachigou had to cling to the light post to keep from falling over.

She had more questions. "But really, _why_ does he like me?"

"Why did he want to help me?"

"I barely know him. I never asked for him to care about me!

"Oh, honey, he thinks you're pretty."

"Is that it? Is that all it is? What makes him think I'm pretty? Is it all because he's attracted to me?" She understood a little better now about attraction and what it could mean to her. And the sex thing. Not just solely for continuing the species, sometimes it could be used for general pleasure. She could almost understand that, remembering that kissing Krillin had been nice. Although that had mostly been just because of the expression on his face. She replayed the scene over and over in her head. She'd teased him for being attracted to her, and now it was coming back to bite her in the ass.

"Well. Krillin's a nice guy. Just in general."

"Yeah. And he doesn't have a lot of luck with women. Combine that with you having blonde hair and a nice figure, and that's about it."

Juuhachigou felt relief and terror. She had the answer to some things, and that was a relief, but then the terror would come barreling in because those answer might explain why she felt the way she did towards Krillin. Were they sharing the same emotions, that attraction and that _like_ thing, that Bulma summed up by saying 'you're willing to spend five minutes alone with him, and occasionally a few of those minutes, you're clothed and just talking. Possible, you're willing to do this in the future. That's what makes a real relationship.' "That's it? That's all it is?"

"Well, I guess. What else did he do beside be nice to you?"

"He used a wish from the dragonballs for me and my brother to be human. And when that didn't work, to have the bombs removed. But then he said that he didn't even care about...dating me, and just wanted me to happy. Or something."

Chi-Chi collapsed near an overflowing dumpster in an alley besides the bar. "I guess he really, really likes you."

"Really? And he's attracted to me?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I'm drunk."

"Yeah. Yeah, you are." And _she_ was asking for _her_ advice. Juuhachigou realized she'd hit a new low point.

Lower than spending her days stuck in a cabin with her brother and no cable.

Lower than spending all day staring at a wall all day or watching Juunanagou clean a rifle and then something in her would burst and she'd end up screaming at him because he'd left a deer trap in the middle of the living room.

Lower than wandering up to Krillin's house like some hungry cat and responding to his large liquid eyes by staying for breakfast.

Lower than when this night had started off, even when she was wondering if she could sneak out of a window in a toilet.

She turned to Bulma, who was lowering herself carefully into the gutter. "Could you ask him? Ask him if he likes me? In that way?"

"Damn heels." The genius threw her shoes into the road where they nearly hit a car's windshield. "Couldn't you just ask him?"

"But what if he doesn't? And then he knows that I wondered about him liking me." She clung tighter to the pole as things spun around even more. "This could worsen things."

Bulma voice was slurry. "Why don't you just sleep with him?"

"What?"

Chi-Chi sounded sick and was coughing. "Or kiss him?"

"I did that."

The dark-haired woman snorted. "Then it's too late for you. You two are going to get married and have a couple of kids you can't afford and then he'll die on you." She fell backwards and hit her head on the side of the dumpster.

"Really?" Juuhachigou asked hopefully. "You mean it?"

That was when the police car pulled up.

Vegeta looked at them with disgust, but not surprise. "I warned you this would happen, woman."

"Shut it." Bulma fell against him as he tried to help her up.

"Now who's going to watch the child tomorrow?"

"Stop _nagging_."

Vegeta took her by the arm and shook her lightly. "And where are your shoes?"

"Where are your shoes, woman?"

Krillin turned away and shook his head. Juuhachigou was sitting on the sidewalk, leaning against a pole and grinning at him. It was a disturbing, if gorgeous sight. Even with a dirty bar as a backdrop, the light shining down on her illuminated her and made her look like an angel. A very drunk angel.

He sat next to her and looked at her looking at him. "At least you still have your footwear on."

"Come here." She smelled so strongly of alcohol that Krillin was a little shocked. Vegeta had warned them as they played poker that Bulma would get the other woman liquored up and lost somewhere. When the police had called, the Saiyan had been smug. Still, warned or not, the results were surprising. "Come here, Krillin." Her eyes blazed in the yellow light from overhead.

He was helpless to do anything but comply. The woman wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. Vodka, that was what she'd been drinking.

Yamcha was trying to explain the situation to the police. Tien was trying to help Chi-Chi up and failing.

He squeezed her shoulders. "Why did you throw that bottle through the window, Juuhachigou? Why?" His own night was looking much more boring. All they'd had was a couple of beers and discovering that every time Vegeta had a good hand, the veins on his right temple bulged more than the ones on the left.

She giggled against his neck. "And we're still clothed too."

"What exactly did you guys talk about?"

"A _lot_ of things." She looked deeply and seriously into his eyes. Her lips touched his ear and a stick of dynamite went off in his chest. It was very pleasant. "I know all about you and _your attraction, _Krillin_." _

She was grinning and it was amazing and frightening. "I know _everything_ now."

Her head felt so right resting against his shoulder. "You think I'm pretty." A drunken giggle. "And I want to poison your grape soda and then be your nurse."

"...I can't wait until you sober up to explain that one. But until then, I think I'll avoid any soda you hand me."

Juuhachigou _nuzzled_ him. "And then have a kid or something and be like the other couples."

It should have been the better, this moment he'd been waiting for his entire life.

"Yeah." He looked at Vegeta, supporting Bulma while trying to look for her shoes, and her complaining about the roughness of the sidewalk as they tried to make their way over to the car, "Well, then, don't throw away your shoes, damnit!"

And Chi-Chi, yelling, snarling at Tien and Yamcha and "That bastard Goku, where is he?", because he has a lot to answer for, and "Where are my sweet babies? Where did you take them, you three-eyed bastard?"

His arm loosened around her. "Yeah. Just like them."

"Now, come on." She grabbed his arm and tried pulling him while trying to maintain her own balance. "Come _on_, Krillin."

"There's this _sex_ thing that I want to try." Everyone heard and turned towards them. Even Vegeta gave them a disturbed look as he tried to push Bulma into the car.

"Find my_ shoooes_, Veggie."

His fist smashed into the roof of the car. "Goddamnit, I told you not to lose them! Did you throw them off an overpass again?"

Bulma giggled.

"Goddamnit, _every time_."

And just like that no one was paying attention to them.

She tugged at his shirt. "It's supposed to be good."

"Feel nice, like when I kissed you."

"Have you heard about it?"

It was safer to not answer.

She continued pulling him along into the car. "Come on, let's go get married. Then we can have some kids, and you can go die."


	4. The Ones With the Party

Author's Note: Added some stuff in my profile about upcoming stories, so feel free to check that out and even comment on some of my ideas (and names) for future work.

Song used in the second story is from Interpol, "Pace Is the Trick."

The One(s) With The Party

'So tell me where it hurts  
To hell with everybody else  
All I care about is you and that's the truth  
They don't love me, yeah I can tell  
But you do, so they can go to hell'

Tell Me Where It Hurts, Garbage

Part One

* * *

She sat in a chair back against the wall, and waiting for the ball to drop. Her confidence was only a thin shield of bravado. Her stomach rolls.

In her hands there was a plate of some unrecognizable finger food that Bulma had handed to her hurriedly. At first she'd thought it was joke, 'look at the android eat, can she do it or will she explode', but everyone's attention was focused more on the children or the television blaring some game show or Bulma's fraying control over her anger. Yamcha made bets to the room at large on how long it would take for her to kill someone.

Bulma slammed things onto the table to the right of Juuhachigou. She muttered things and asked the blonde woman questions that were not truly questions before cycling back into insult and threats directed at her husband.

"Will he be here later?"

"Tell me, why did I ever marry that man?"

"He'd said he'd be here." The blue-haired woman shoves another rubbery chicken onto the table. "And he'd better be."

Krillin had disappeared to coo over Trunks after pressing a glass of noxious punch onto her. "It's a party. Relax." A shit-eating grin on his face. She would murder him after this was through. This entire ridiculous night was his fault.

'Oh, they won't care. It's a party.' His smile had been shy. The neat kitchen on Kami's island the night before takes a threatening, leering look and her arms fold across her chest.

'You're my guest after all. They'll be nice.'

'Vegeta did way worse, but we still invite him over to play Scrabble every other week.'

'Of course, he never says yes, but that just means we save money on food.'

'It'll be fine.' He patted her arm, trying to comfort her. She gave him a flat look and in the end it takes a bribe of agreeing to go shopping with her. That, and a kiss long enough to give Roshi and the perverted pig enough time to cheer as they looked in on them from the kitchen. She untangled her fingers from his mussed hair long enough to aim a ki blast at them and send them running.

His cheeks were pink. She pressed her forehead into his and looked deep into his eyes. Defensively. 'It'll be fun.'

Right now Juuhachigou missed the corny jokes and wished she was nearer to him, even if it involved spending time with a small wailing child. There is a joke in there, over which was which, but she was too tired to make it.

Within five minutes of sitting there, Chi-Chi wanders over, babbling on about Gohan and Goku and how her garden was growing, and in another ten she is yelling at her. The last thing the android is is a coward, and yet by the end of Chi-Chi's rant she wishes she could just break a window and fly away.

Every time she tried to bring up how Goku's death and her innocence, then, Chi-Chi's child _was being raised fatherless, how could you be so heartless_, the yelling only grows louder and eventually the tears began building in her eyes. It reminds the android of Krillin and leaves her cemented to the chair. Their eyes were both similar shades of black. She blamed Krillin for this. Then the mother collapses into Juuhachigou's numb arms, crying and professing that she's pregnant.

"Please, don't tell anyone."

"I can't bare for anyone to know." She rubs at her wet cheeks and Juuhachigou hands over a limp napkin. She had not killed Goku or even _truly_ attempted to, and yet she felt guilty. There was something about Chi-Chi that could make you feel guilty, regardless of what you did. She made you look deep into your past and heart to find a transgression. And Juuhachigou _had _ransacked the woman's home and insulted her clothes.

She takes a long drag off the spiked punch while her other hand is awkwardly held in Chi-Chi's surprisingly strong grip.

Why had everyone latched onto her to speak their mind and reveal their deepest secrets? What next, would Tien pull her aside to explain his third eye, Vegeta to talk about his father issues and his obsession with Goku, Piccolo wanting to discuss how he thought of Gohan as a son and could he tell Chi-Chi that he disagreed with her parenting style and that _he'd_ read... Juuhachigou could think of some answers, but none of them were kind and most involved the fighters having to learn to make a noose. Which, sadly, she suspects would be beyond them.

What is it that said, 'please tell me all about your problems'? Is Krillin rubbing off on her, or is it her clothes and hair and that spoke of normalcy and sanity? She just hopes that when she saw her brother again it had worn off. She doesn't think she could take Juunanagou wanting to talk about his feelings. For what, she didn't know. A deer, maybe? A nice redwood?

"My poor little baby will grow up never knowing his father."

"That idiot, leaving us all."

"How can I raise a child by myself?"

All within twenty minutes of the blonde entering the room. What's more, hardly anyone looks more than twice in their direction. They are _used_ to this, and seem to expect nothing more. Their only reaction to the situation was to stuff more food in their faces. Maybe that was why they ate so much.

Gohan eventually leads his mother away, peeling her fingers off the android, and looking over his shoulder to give a small smile to Juuhachigou. As though asking for her forgiveness over the pregnant woman.

Immediately after, Chi-Chi turns on Yamcha and demands to know if he will explain to the baby where their daddy is. Everyone congratulates her, and Chi-Chi cries more. It's a child, not a postcard, and yet it seems that Son's wife and her are the only ones who notice that. Although, when she looked at him closely, Krillin's eyes are shadowed and thoughtful.

Tien nods at her, and Chiaozu waves. In the back of her mind, files full of facts immediately were flipped without interest. With vividness, she can remember her brother attempting to strangle the three-eyed man.

Even more disturbing, Piccolo gives her a small smile from his corner of the room. She nods at him, sensing another victim. A small plate of food looks ridiculous in his long hands, with their fingernails nearly talons. And she can remember her brother nearly killing him as well.

When Vegeta finally arrives, Bulma goes dead silent and Juuhachigou stops staring in Krillin's (it is impossible, but she will announce to him without words that the time to leave was thirty minutes ago) direction long enough to notice her expression torn between rage and gratefulness.

Vegeta is the only one who is rude, and considering what she'd done to his pride, Juuhachigou can almost forgive him. Right after he gave her that death glare, he turned on his wife to complain about his training capsule and their screams resonated through the room. It almost blocks out the cheering audience and Chi-Chi's crying.

She almost wished someone would say something, if only to wipe the smug look Krillin has.

'I told you.' He mouths.

She mouths. 'I will kill you.'

He blows a kiss and turns back to the squalling child.

The only reason he did that was because he _knew_ she couldn't kill him in front of everyone. Someone might put down their plate long enough to stop her. The warmth on her face is from anger, she assures herself. Absolute rage. Fury, that's what makes her stomach swirl and toss like this.

He coos at the baby. And her stomach twists more.

The android missed the clean small kitchen, the tiny island with its minuscule house and cramped room and its terrible paint job. Her room upstairs and the way no furniture fits properly in it and the shy way he pauses before going past the doorway. She misses the way the palm trees scrape against her window and wake her up every morning, and yet every time she attempts to tear it down, is unable to.

After Krillin gets sick of being awoken by it as well and trims the frond off, something so simple that she'd missed, she somehow puts the pieces together and understands what being in a relationship with someone means. How another person so opposite of you can complete you in places you didn't know existed, and make things better. Still though, it was pretty damn stupid of her to miss just cutting a little of the tree off.

When her gaze falls on something other than the back of his head, she notices the small smiles everyone sends her. Of course, _now _they paid attention to something other than their stomachs or the mind numbing television.

They _approve_, goddamn them.

She had wanted some real reaction, fear, hated, horror that Krillin had fallen into her clutches. They should plead that he is making a mistake. Offer therapy and remind him of all the terrible things she did. Did he care nothing for his own safety?

Instead:

Yamcha gives her a thumbs-up. Piccolo and Gohan give her the same smiles. Bulma and Vegeta yell at each other harder, as though to make up for the amount of loss of rage in the room. Tien sighs and hands Chaozu money. Chi-Chi stops crying long enough to wish them a happier relationship than the one she had _with that idiot, why did he leave her and their babies- _

Krillin's smile is smugger than ever.

Bastards.

She really should have killed them when she had the chance. But now, it was too late. Her hair was sane and not a gravity defying mess, and her clothes were normal and actually bought from a real store, but still, she could sense that she was starting to fit in. She was...

_One of them._

* * *

The One with The Party (Part Two)

* * *

The door bell her brother had installed ranged, and Juuhachigou rolled her eyes at the mariachi music that sounded. She rolled them so hard that she nearly saw the back of her skull. Morbidly, the android wondered if the dots swimming before her eyes were simply from the strain that was produced or the after effects of seeing any bright flashing lights from the robotics that might have been installed in her head.

There was a pause from the sawing in the backyard. "Answer the door!"

"You answer it!"

She stretched and reached out for the door knob. Easily two feet too many. Her bowl of popcorn was nearly upset, and that settled the matter. "Nope. Can't make it."

"Well, I'm busy!"

"It can wait. Those trees aren't going anywhere."

"Yeah, well, the roof isn't just going to build itself either."

Juuhachigou shrugged, although of course her brother couldn't see. "It's fine. We get more sunlight this way. More air circulation."

"And if it rains?"

"Uh. Laundry time? Its fine, you got part of the roof up. We'll just duck into the parts of the room with a ceiling."

"That's stupid. And you're the one who keeps bitching to me about how you hate how this place looks. How ugly it is and how much I've destroyed our lease."

"If it's been a year, why would you now start fixing things up?"

"Because I thought you wanted me to finally fix this place up?"

"…just answer the door Juunanagou."

"You do it!"

"Damnit, _one of you tin cans better open the door_!"

Her popcorn spilled out onto the floor.

There was a pause as the twins tried to analyze properly the voice they'd just heard. Cautiously, her brother spoke up. "Vegeta?"

"And us too." A helpful voice spoke up. A helpful text scrolled across her eyes. 'Yamcha' it said, in helpful red print that sent her into a helpful cardiac episode. Juunanagou helpfully dragged his saw into the building and sheared through half of the wall.

She knew who would speak up next. She waited for it patiently.

There was the thump noise as her brother set down his chainsaw. "Who is 'us'?"

"Me." Said the helpful voice.

"Me ," growled a vengeful demon.

There was a long pause. "And me," finally spoke a resigned sigh.

The blonde woman was reminded of the Three Little Pigs. Although this time around the pigs had come for revenge and were about to slaughter the wolves who were trying (successfully, she might add) to be vegetarians-or at least kosher.

Her twin's dark head peaked through the opening in the wall. It was very pale, his face. Their eyes met grimly.

So. They weren't entirely stupid. They'd finally come to kill them. It had been over a year since they'd seen them, but apparently it was the time to start checking things off on peoples 'To Do List's.' She glared at her mystified brother; he'd set this all in motion, with his actually not just sitting around and doing things kick.

And it was far, far too late to pretend they weren't home.

"Piccolo?"

"Yes."

She tapped her fingers against her now-empty bowl. "Yamcha?"

"Yes." His voice held a quiver in it.

"And Vegeta."

The Saiyan growled again.

She did the necessary calculations in her head. Yamcha was no problem. Piccolo they could take together. Vegeta, however, was another beast.

"So." She cleared her throat. "Krillin's not there?"

"No."

"Why would he be?" There was a chuckle as Yamcha's fear dissipated. "Although, he'd be happy to know that you want to see him again."

Juuhachigou grounded her teeth down until sparks nearly flew. The scar-faced bandit was only being brave because he knew they couldn't kill him while he had Piccolo and Vegeta to look after him.

_Because Krillin would probably not want us dead,_ was what she wanted to say_._ They'd been created to destroy all human life, and in particular to kill the greatest fighters the planet had to offer, and now they were hiding behind a hairless ex-monk that lacked a nose and had been petrified by the sight of them the first time they'd met. The man who had spared her life, twice, just because she'd given him a kiss to mock him for being too cowardly to fight as well as congratulate him for not being a complete idiot like his friends and her brother.

Sad, how far they'd fallen.

Juunanagou was attempted to sneak away into the woods. Juuhachigou threw her bowl at him, grateful for the first time the lack of glass set into the windows.

She swallowed a lump of pennies that had grown in her throat. Her voice was confident and unafraid. "What do you want?"

Vegeta growled.

"Just give it to them Vegeta."

"You do it."

"You do it, Namek."

"Let the human do it."

"No, Bulma said for you to do it."

"Open this door!"

"No."

"_Open this door_!" It rattled on its frame. Never before had the android ever considered that her life might hinge on the strength of a hinge.

"Please?"

"Not by the hair on my chinny-chin." Juunanagou answered. Mentally, Juuhachigou send her brother a high five. It was rare for her to be this amused lately, but maybe something of her brother's daredevil do-it-until-it-kills-you nature was rubbing off. They still had the will to fight and they would not go calmly to their deaths. If they had to die now, it would be after making a crack that compared Vegeta to an animal.

"Damn you both." Something slid under the door, and Juuhachigou flinched as her brother did the same.

The three visitors stomped away.

The androids stared at the square cut of bright laminated paper. A cartoon donkey happily kicked a man that looked mysteriously like a Saiyan prince who was holding a pin in one hand, his stomach with the other. 'Party!' was written in obnoxious pink font. 'Property of Capsule Corp' was written in discreet grey letters below the picture which might have been amusing in another, far different life.

Her heart was still racing. "What is it?" It would explode any minute now. Aside from her own programming, getting cable had made the blonde was well aware of how ordinary things could suddenly explode upon command. Especially things from Capsule Corp.

"I don't know."

"Go get it."

"You get it."

"You do it!"

* * *

"We aren't going."

How dare they invite them to a party, as though to completely erase what they'd done, what they'd tried to do. How dare they pretend that they were getting along, and could join hands and sing. It was painful enough to have lost their place as the most powerful beings on this planet, and then to have salt rubbed in their wounds. As though Cell had completely changed how the androids felt about them. Because they were now dethroned, they were declawed kittens and harmless and _weak_.

The indignity hurt.

She knew what this all meant, just as she knew who was responsible for this. His pathetic knees knocked together, and that stupidity that he had confused with courage that had made him destroy the remote and _protect her_, he had tried _to protect her like she was some useless pathetic princess and he was her knight_. Her fury warmed the room.

He wanted to be her friend, or worse. Were those his sad attempts at what...wooing? The android felt ill and furious. The big dark eyes that she was expected to be grateful towards. Like she was supposed to fall to her knees and smile and thank you so much for saving me and removing those bombs, you're such a hero, please pick me up at eight, tiger. She would have preferred death.

He had no right.

Juuhachigou arms were crossed, and this meant that things were completely settled and there would be no argument. None.

But of course there always was.

She watched her brother shove a fork into the toaster. He caught her expression. "What? Oh come on, like it's going to actually hurt me."

"We are not going to this," she flicked the invitation at him. "This_ party_." Juuhachigou sneered at it.

"You're always complaining about going place, though."

"Not to go and commit an elaborate suicide. I can just eat your cooking if I wanted to do that."

He jammed the fork in deeper.

For a second, she nearly saw his skeleton.

"Ouch. Damnit." He fell to a huddled, badly dressed heap on the floor. The smell of ozone saturated the kitchen. Steam rose in a cloud.

Juunanagou twitched around, interestingly.

"I warned you." Still, she watched him flop around. The television was in the other room and she was too tired to shuffled back to the couch. Their supposedly limitless energy was clearly another lie of Gero's.

She looked at her fingers, clenched together in a white-knuckled mass. Somehow, she knew who to blame for this. And the worst part was that she couldn't exact her revenge without his little piggy friends showing up and doing far more than blowing the house down. Or was that what the wolf did?

Why would a wolf blow down a house? _How_ could a wolf blow down a house? Why would pigs live in a house? That would be a filthy, filthy house, Juuhachigou bet. Mud everywhere.

_Even worse than this pigsty. Worse than Sons' home, too. What was it Juunanagou said when we went there 'if you lived here, you'd be depressed by now?'_

Her brother would love to live in that though. No matter how much he ridiculed such a place as being for a hick. But, she, she was not a pig. Or even a wolf. _Not anymore._

Did the wolf live in a house? Maybe that was why he was attacking the pigs, to lower the property value so he could finally move into a decent neighborhood.

That, and to get a good ham.

She had it all figured out now.

_What?_

She looked at her fingers again.

_Have I been sitting here for the last five minutes thinking about a story involving pigs with homes that lacked a decent carpenter? Or good construction. Or equity. _

_I bet the resell value for pig stained straw is terrible._

_Dear Kami, I need to stop watching so many shows about selling property. _

_Which reminds me: Juunanagou really needs to properly buy this land instead of leasing it. He's completely ruined so much of the land it's residing on. We might as well buy it for good. Our deposit is long gone after all. Not that anyone could exactly come after us for payment. _

_Dear Kami. I need to stop thinking._

_Just. Stop._

_Stop._

"We aren't going there."

"It could be a trap."

"I don't want to die in such a stupid way."

"Maybe you want to. But not me."

When she looked up, Juunanagou was nowhere to be seen. Outside, she listened to him revving up the engine to his chainsaw. The air still smelled burning hair.

"On the other hand, it might be nice to talk to someone other than him. An actual adult."

"Besides myself of course."

She laughed gently. "Although, clearly that's more invigorating than talking to Juunanagou."

"…Why do I keep expecting a reply?"

"Stop doing this."

"This can't be healthy."

"What would happen if someone actually _did_ respond?"

"That would be weird."

Her fingernails tapped against the small rough table. The anger had left, and she only felt a big void inside her, larger than this kitchen. "Hm. Well. I can use this event as an excuse to buy a new outfit."

She shrugged. Then she imagined a round face, looking up at her so cheerful, so hopeful. The big dark eyes that were either something close to worship or dead seriousness. What exactly he had expected and wanted, _how_ he could have expected such a thing, she didn't quite understand. All she had done was mess with the shrimp a little, but that didn't explain why he'd been stupid enough to take such a risk as destroying that controller. Or using the dragon balls to help her and her brother.

_Was it kindness or stupidity? Not that there is necessarily a difference._

_All I did was kiss him on the cheek._

_How could he take that as an earnest gesture of affection? _

_Dear Kami, did he think I was attracted to him?_

_Have you been sitting here for another five minutes, thinking about the chrome dome? _

"Yes." Juuhachigou told the empty room. "But I no longer care."

A smile threatened to peel her lips back from her teeth in a ferocious grin. If Krillin was at the party, the android would be able to clear a few things up.

"Alright. I'll go."

* * *

"It said,_ casual_, right?"

Juunanagou nodded. He wore his usual ripped jeans, and long-sleeved white shirt, black shirt thrown on over it. She'd almost made him change his usual Red Ribbon Army black shirt to a plain one. They didn't need to antagonize these people any more. Then she let it go, as a small act of defiance.

_You could take our power over this world, our dignity, but you will not take my brother's ridiculous shirt_.

"You've read the damn invitation a dozen times. Haven't you memorized it?"

Her own clothes consisted of a well-worn blue skirt, plain black shirt to match Juunanagou's and a pair of ankle high dark boots. It had looked alright at home, a way of sticking it to those morons that she didn't care about their opinion, she could wear whatever she wanted. But now it looked sloppy and the skirt was much too short and tired looking, and the black shirt was much too loose.

She couldn't believe she was here. The dome before them shined gold, red flashing lights strung around it. It reminded her of a dweeb of a man. He should never have been allowed to be out on that highway, she recited, again. And he should never have been trusted with the emergency shutoff controller. Or given the chance to use a dragonball wish.

Her teeth grounded down another centimeter.

Juuhachigou stared closely at her brother's shoes to distract herself. They were normally stained with mud and sap, and she'd forced him to wipe them down for once. Now she hated the cheerful blue.

It left as quickly as it had come. Lately, her emotions were scattered and disjointed, leaving her unsure of what she was actually feeling.

A sudden nostalgic feeling swept in; she missed Juurokugou's presence. The lack of their green and black clad silent giant of a shadow would hit her still, and she would feel something close to loneliness. It was foolish and worthless, but sometimes in the early mornings, she remembered those days spent in the cramped, chilly pink van fondly. Things had been simpler, even without a real plan other than 'Kill Son Goku.' Then, killing Earth's savior and finding new clothes had been enough.

'You guys are…cool.' _Oh yeah, Juurokugou, we're mondo cool._

She slapped her forehead. Suddenly, with the speed of one of the flashing lights, she understood that she was starting to lose her mind. The android sighed. Juunanagou wasn't enough. This entire wretched evening planned ahead of them was a clear sign of that. This was a cry for help.

Maybe she needed a pet?

Juunanagou giggled and pulled at her arm. "Maybe we'll have fun."

"Shut up." He was just trying to irritate her.

"Maybe they'll have decent food."

"It'll be poisoned."

"Maybe," his grin was malicious and nothing short of evil. "Maybe that bald shrimp will be there."

"You did not say that."

He shrugged.

"I hate you."

He pulled her toward the building.

A smiling blonde woman greeted them; her eyes were closed from the force of her happiness. Still though, Juuhachigou sensed that her gaze lingered too long on Juunanagou. Her voice sent the skin on her back crawling, and from Juunanagou's expression, he felt the same.

"Hi, _dears_," she trilled. _Traitor_. _This is why blondes had such a bad reputation. Why don't you just go parallel park your car badly, and be done with it._

Juunanagou flinched. There was something here. Something buried deep into their subconscious. Juuhachigou wondered what awful trauma they'd suffered when they'd been human for this reaction to occur.

Or maybe she was simply irritating.

Or maybe it was those horrible training sessions with that awful clown thing, Juukyogou. Normally, she was the most irritated with her brother's childishness, but she'd cheered when he'd knocked the other androids head off his shoulders during a training session.

That high pitched voice brought back memories.

The older blonde woman was looking through a folder for their names. Like a _guest list_. As soon as they entered, everyone would be wearing their finest evening wear. Juuhachigou knew it deep inside whatever passed for the soul she didn't believe she had.

"Oh Juunanagou! And Juuhachigou!"

"You're those android we heard so much about!"

Juunanagou nudged her. "Hey, remember Juukyogou?"

She smirked.

"Aw, you two don't look so scary!" To the twins' horror, she reached and pinched their cheeks motherly. "I always hoped to have twins someday! It must be funny to see someone who looks just like you! Like looking in a mirror!"

It was a laugh riot. A millions chuckles every second.

Her eye twitched.

"So _ador-ah-ble_. I don't understand why everyone was so afraid of you both."

And there was nothing they could do. Any retribution would result in them losing their own heads.

"That Juurokugou fellow wasn't scary either. He was such a sweetheart."

"Juurokugou?" Both asked, simultaneously. They forgot their rage.

"Oh yes, he stayed here for a short while. Hmm," she looked deep in thought. Juuhachigou nearly rolled her eyes, but she was too interested to do so openly. "It was some time back. He was in bad shape, but my husband fixed him right up!"

There was a strident scream. "_Mom_!"

"I told you to stop harassing our guests!"

She shooed the woman off. Juuhachigou felt relief, then a fear of what this woman would say to them. 'Bulma Brief' flashed before her eyes. 'Friend of Goku and Kri-" She mentally waved off the rest.

Bulma looked sympathetic.

"She pinched your cheeks, didn't she?"

"She left a mark," she blue-haired woman explained at the sight of the expressions.

Both androids rubbed frantically at their faces.

"Just be grateful that she didn't pinch the other pair of cheeks."

"You should have seen the bruises she left on Vegeta."

The blonde haired mother was right; it was like looking at a mirror. She could see her own terrified expression clearly on her brother's face.

Tonight was going to be horrible.

Bulma grabbed both their arms and dragged them into the house. She saw one of Juunanagou's arms stretched out, trying to grab something solid for support, but the scientist was pulling them too fast.

Juuhachigou missed the mother.

She nearly tossed them into the living room. "Well, help yourselves to whatever Vegeta left the rest of us lowly mortals."

Juuhachigou didn't bother correcting her. Her throat had shrunk to the size of a pinhole.

Everyone was there. Everyone that had been an enemy and who they'd nearly killed. Their eyes focused on them. Judging. Seeing their every movement. Taking them in with their inferior eyes. She tried to do the calculations again, but there were too many addition and multiplications signs.

At least, she consoled herself, they were dressed casually.

She wished she was wearing pants.

Even Juunanagou looked a little nervous.

Music sounded from speakers overhead, horrible frenzied music. To their left, in a small sunken part of the domed house, a makeshift dance floor had been arranged. There was a smoke machine was arranged, billowing out clouds, and bright lights flashed overhead. A short man with his back turned to them, not _the_ short man however, jumped up and down and generally spazzed out like a weirdo. His black shirt and hair made him visible, even through the smoke. Juuhachigou hoped for his sake he was drunk. His happiness was so apparent and undisguised that she nearly envied him. Gohan was with him, and together they pogoed and slamming into each other like lunatics.

Someone messed with the music, until something better came on overhead. '…And I follow the speed in the star swept night. And now I select you …' Of course the psychos wandered away, bored.

Yamcha was nearby, dancing with a curly blonde haired girl, whose arsenal of weapons was enough to make even her brother take a second look. He laughed at the androids, and motioned for them to join them. Juunanagou and Juuhachigou pulled closer to each other and avoided looking in that direction again.

She imagined being very small, wearing a pink dress in a clay smelling kindergarten holding her just-younger brother's hand. Him in blue jeans, even then, and cowering behind her for protection. Had that ever happened? Was it a piece of her memory that floated up? It was happening more and more often to her, and she wondered if Juunanagou was experiencing the same.

The huge television rested on the wall ahead of them. A bright silver ball was being shown, and stupidly, she wondered if it was New Years.

A screaming child ran past them, its mouth covered with frosting. Gohan followed quickly behind, and Bulma followed _him_. A baby yelled somewhere from on the couch, and Juuhachigou could make out Goku's wife, holding a dark-haired infant that resembled the famed warrior right down to the absurd hair. 'Chi-Chi,' Juuhachigou read as it scrolled across her eyes. She looked blissful for some reason, and instead of glaring at them, smiled peacefully.

The twins leaned toward each other. Eyes everywhere. Seeing them, probably contemplating where they'd toss their corpses after the murder occurred. If such an attempt happened, Juuhachigou would make a run for Son's wife. Either to hide behind her seemingly friendly exterior as a shield, or to use as a hostage.

_Of course_, she thought bitterly, _the chrome dome was nowhere in sight. _His one useful purpose was to protect them, and he wasn't there.

Vegeta sneered at them from a table set up nearby. He looked like he was going to say something cutting that would set everyone on them, but then the blonde woman from earlier dropped another turkey onto the table and distracted him.

Tien glared at them, and so did the little floating man at his shoulder. Juuhachigou and Juunanagou stared at them back. She wondered what they saw when the two looked at her. 'Chiaozu,' the files read. He reminded her horribly of the other clown from her past.

Maybe this was something else from her and her brother's past life. Had they been abandoned in a circus? Left to the whims of a mad, squeaky-voiced clown? If Gero had taken them from that, then she was almost, sort of grateful a tiny, tiny bit.

Piccolo simply nodded at them. There was a tall glass of water before him, a half empty large bottle of premium water nearby. The blonde figured that for the Namek, this was like a couple of shots of vodka.

The child, purple-haired she noticed now, went screaming past again. Gohan continued to give chase, although he paused momentarily to nod at them. It was reassuring nod, not overly friendly as Bulma's mother had been, nor was it not rude or drunkenly friendly.

Bulma's face flashing by was red, and Juuhachigou could feel her rage boiling over.

The androids leaned against a wall. This was okay. They could get through this. Her muscles relaxed a little. This was good. They were out of the cabin and around other people. They would get some food, and leave before any drunken fight might break out. They might not have more than a nodding acquaintanceship with these people, but she saw nothing wrong with that whatsoever. That was exactly what she wanted, in fact. So long as no one ripped organs or limbs from them, Juuhachigou would be alright.

They would live past this night.

She breathed out.

The purple-haired boy ran by towards them again, and this time he had frosting on his head. Gohan had been left behind, Juuhachigou figure, because Bulma were the only one left chasing him.

"Stop him!"

She pulled closer to the wall, letting him go by unhindered.

"Geez, thanks, Juuhachi," Bulma mumbled, chasing after the boy.

A short figure leapt in front of them. Juunanagou stepped backward, apparently stupid enough to become complacent. Juuhachigou looked at the dark hair. No.

_No. _

His voice was even more nasally than before. "Hey! You guys actually came!"

Krillin nearly hugged them. His arms were outstretched and everything. After living in a cabin with her brother in the middle of a forest, she was not used to this much attention or noise. It was like being awoken by a firecracker. Juuhachigou joined her brother and pulled away from him. He had hair.

He was smiling. There was an actual spark somewhere in her spine, and she wondered if she was short-circuiting somehow. Her face was hot, and clearly a blood vessel had exploded.

He had hair.

Juunanagou asked the question. "Why do you have hair?" Her brother looked at the fighter closely. "Is it a wig?"

He made a face. "Wha? No, of course not." Krillin yanked at the short strands. It had actually been styled and recently trimmed and conditioned. He had fringes of hair falling onto his forehead, for god' sake. Like…an actual normal person-not much like the man she'd kissed on a freeway while his friends lay bleeding. _At least he still lacks a nose. _Comforting.

"I just shaved it and kept it well waxed." He nodded, and they nodded back, as though they understood.

"So, how've you been?"

Black eyes were darting to her, then to her brother, then back to her. He was rocking back and forth on his heels. She could see little beads of perspiration on his forehead, and remembered his crazed dancing. If he tried to talk her into dancing with him, she would throw him into the smoke machine. His grin was brighter than the lights on the dance floor.

Her anger was a tiny thing compared to it.

"Are you hungry?"

"Can I get you anything?"

"Are you thirty?"

"Do you want any pizza?"

Juunanagou and Juuhachigou nodded uncomfortably at his questions. Part of it was simply an attempt to not rile up the natives, and the other was curiosity of what they could get him to do. Every time he would rush off and bring them something, then ask if he could help them again. It was like having a very helpful dog that could actually carry food and drinks as opposed to simply slippers or a newspaper. As it should be. If they'd asked, he would have rubbed their feet and backs for them.

She had a fantasy of bringing him back to their cabin, laying around in the sun while he fetched drinks and painted her nails in-between fixing the roof and putting in windows. He had connections with Capsule Corp, and could probably get better channels on cable, ones they could only dream about. If he was good, he could rub sun block onto her back. They could go shopping, and he'd pay for everything, and she could pick out more flattering clothing for him to wear, as a favor.

Her hatred and contempt might even wane with enough time.

Juunanagou's eyes were far away, and she bet he was imagining the same thing, although probably with less nail painting. They smiled at each other.

They would steal him away from that horrid pink house (she couldn't even imagine how little that island would have gone for if they tried to sell it) and bring him back to their cabin. She wondered if she could talk him into finding a new car for Juunanagou, and him into taking her to the mall.

The drinks were very strong, she noticed, after having far too many.

The ball on the television was lowering, slowly.

A karaoke machine was found and dragged out by an angry Bulma. "Why am I the one carrying this thing?" Krillin wanted to go first. She overheard the music selection he had a choice of.

Juuhachigou knew it was time to leave.

She tugged at her brother's arm, but was futile.

They whispered to each other. "Come on, it might be fun."

"No, Juunanagou."

"We can get blackmail of these guys for later."

The blonde android paused. "That's true. They might make us sing, however."

"Well, maybe I want to sing?"

"You do not."

"Stop telling me what to do!"

"Stop being a jackass, and maybe I won't have to!"

Then she felt the weight of the eyes. People were looking at them amused instead of marking where the first blows would hit. Piccolo was chuckling, as were a few others, although the green-skinned man's was the most disturbing. Vegeta smirked. Even Tien was smiling at them, his three-eyed gaze focused far too much on her brother for her comfort. It made her aware of how the bridges between them were being crossed in weird ways.

Couldn't they just be enemies who didn't try to kill each other? Wasn't that enough?

Too much alcohol and joy in this room. She had enough.

"Fine." She smoothed down her shirt and stomped away.

Outside, the air was refreshingly crisp. The moonless night left everything cast in darkness. It was nice to sit here, on a bench with freshly cut green grass in all directions. Things were peaceful out here. She could understand how things worked in this backyard. Even with the dinosaurs and various animal life nearby.

Somehow, she could imagine Juurokugou here, petting the animals, being happy. Maybe missing his own odd sort of family, if her and Juunanagou could qualify as such. He would have like it here, would have enjoyed this entire event. She could see his smile.

It was like he'd left little pieces of himself for her to sense and take comfort from.

"…_Ooooohhh, I just want to be your puppy! Aaaaaaannnnd love you aaalwaaaaaaysss…"_

The android rolled her eyes; Krillin should not have been allowed near a microphone.

Other had joined him with him and she felt a horrible smile coming to her face, no matter how she tried to repress it. His happiness, like when he'd been dancing, was so unhindered by things like 'shame' or 'self-respect.' You could almost respect him for it.

It was still, so very bad. So very terrible.

Someone else tore the microphone from Krillin's grasp, and began to sing.

She glanced behind her.

...Was that Vegeta?

She turned back around.

_I don't want to know._

Juuhachigou also didn't want to leave her brother there. Especially with alcohol and her-ever childishly curious brother and a drunk Cyclops with wandering eyes. The thought made her blanch. And, since she was alone, she could admit to herself that she was a little lonely without her other half. And a little jealous.

_Stupid. So stupid_. But that was the truth and she was courageous enough to admit that and think on how alone she was.

It was not self-pity. She did not participate in such a weakness. This was just self-realization.

Which only made her more depressed.

It would be undignified for her brother to be with the three-eyed man. And she would be damned if she would be the third-wheel with those two. They would drag her on double-dates, she realized with a fresh layer of horror. Her date would probably be Chiaotzu.

She attempted to shove aside the image of Juunanagou dressed in preppy clothes, khaki and sweaters, Tien in a matching outfit, on a date at some retro burger restaurant. It went, slowly, only to reappear. Only this time _she _was there, sitting on the other side of the booth, and of course _he_ was there next to her. "Isn't this _swell_, Juuhachigou?" She wanted to gouge his eyes out.

_How could you even think that Krillin?_ _How could_ I_ even think that_?

More sparks flew from her mouth.

Soon, they would be laughing along with the others horrible, corny jokes they all made. Puns would become funny. They would hold Chi-Chi's new baby and offer to babysit. Their clothes would become absurdly tacky and loose, and Juunanagou had enough trouble as it was. Or worse, they would go around in tight clothes like Bulma and Vegeta.

The android would go on mindless adventures with the gang, attending their insipid parties, flee from Chi-Chi and Bulma's wrath, chuckle at Muten Roshi's pervertions. Their hair would become gravity-defying and eventually, one of them (she) would end up saying 'mondo cool' aloud and chuckling in the stupid mindless deep way the gang tended to.

The gang.

_The gang. They're becoming _the gang _to me._

Oh Kami. They needed to avoid these people before they became part of them. Or was it too late? Had the infection already set it, the tumors no longer benign, the cancer spreading? Juunanagou was inside right now, possibly picking out the song he was going to sing, possibly being chatted up by Tien. Juuhachigou shuddered.

_All he did was look at Juunanagou! That can't mean anything! _

_Yes, well, look at how much damage a kiss did._

It was far beyond going against any stupid programming. This was going against the gods, against nature, against the laws of the universe.

She stared, sightless, into the dark sky.

When he settled next to her on the bench, the android hadn't even noticed until she heard him humming along with the song inside. She jumped a foot into the air, before settling down again and nudging a strand of hair behind her ear, dignified as a queen. Her heart was racing, and she damned herself over and over, not knowing exactly why.

He was just being Krillin, but she had no excuses for her behavior.

"So, how are you?"

"Didn't you already ask me that?"

He smiled easily, ignoring her caustic tone. "Sure, but you looked a lot happier inside."

"Then I guess you have your answer then."

She looked him over, seeing the round features and noticing how much younger he looked with hair. "So," Juuhachigou motioned to the top of his head. "Why are you growing it out?"

"I just, you know, decided it would look better this way."

"Really?" She raised an eyebrow, coolly.

"And, I guess. I guess I'm done fighting." He was looking into his clasped hands, brow furrowed.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I can't keep up with the others. I'm only human."

"The worst part really is that I've spent all of my life fighting. I don't know what to do with myself if I'm not training." Krillin sighed, deeply.

Juuhachigou decided that she never should have left the party. Then the small fighter wouldn't be telling her all this, bearing a soul that she never wanted to see. She wondered if she could slip off without him noticing. He looked so pitiful, especially when she compared him to the man dancing in a cloud and singing to karaoke.

"It's just hard to find my place now."

"Did you not have a plan about what would happen when you stopped fighting? After your enemy was defeated?"

"Every time we have a new enemy, I think that we're all going to die. And there was always a new enemy. It was hard enough to find hobbies with that hanging over my head."

"I see."

"Really, for us, training is our jobs. That's all we did."

A year ago, she would have found nothing wrong with this. But now, she was wiser, and had wasted many an hour before the television. She was a very different person than when Gero had last awakened her. "So, you did nothing else? You just trained and prepared yourself for the next enemy. That's all?"

"Yep. It's, I mean, we saved the world and everything. But in some ways, it didn't help us with our personal lives."

"Such as?"

"Uh, Goku's illiterate. And dead. Yamcha can't have a serious relationship. I don't even know what's up with Tien and Choatzu." She hoped he couldn't hear her sudden swallow.

"And Vegeta. Just look at Vegeta."

"And how do you think I got so good at all those special ki attacks? Our entire lives, Miss Juuhachigou."

"Hm."

"Miss Juuhachigou," the dark-haired man repeated. The android wished he wouldn't call her that. Of course they weren't friends, and she appreciated the respect, but after running for their lives together from a bionic monster made from his and his friend's cells, somehow the blatant courtesy was off-putting. He paused, and she could see color rising to his face. "Have you ever found yourself over thinking things? Thigns that should be simple? Like analogies?"

"You mean ones involving old stories and fables that involve talking animals and home construction?"

"…yeah."

"…nope."

Her hand slid next to his.

She owed him nothing. She just wanted it to be clear to anyone reading her thoughts, possibly Piccolo for instance, that she owed him not a thing. On the record, Juuhachigou did not owe a single thing to Krillin.

They listened to off-key singing from inside, Bulma and Vegeta shrieking at each other, the chanting as the ball dropped and another miserable year ended and another one began. Juuhachigou tried to imagine another year like the last one, one where literally nothing of importance had occurred, and could not. It was too horrifying. Like peeling off a bandage and watching the leprosy spread.

Krillin though, he looked happy, hopeful. This year clearly would bring some more happiness to his life.

The android wanted to kick him off the bench and tell him to get lost, yet, didn't want him to leave at all. She would be stuck with her thoughts that were increasingly disturbing. It was almost nice to be around him, even when they didn't say anything. Just being around the short man was not pleasant exactly, but a little slower and calmer. Even with that thing lying between them, one neither dared talk about. Juuhachigou didn't want to think about it, but acknowledge that it was shaped like a controller, and sounded like the growl of the Eternal Dragon.

"Another year gone by." His words were soft.

It was nice to find someone as lost as she was, but who actually thought something good would happen.

"I hope this year goes well for you and your brother, Juuhachigou."

Startled, Juuhachigou couldn't find anything to say. It will not, she wanted to tell him. Her face hardened. "Well, that's awful optimistic of you. I suppose it can't get any worse."

"Maybe this year Vegeta or Piccolo will finally come after us to finish what Cell tried to do. Or Juunanagou will end up cutting a foot off with his chainsaw. Or you and your idiotic friends will invite us to another stupid party like this one." There were a million other situations she could imagine, Tien dating her brother, having to be completely alone with her thoughts and being unable to turn them off, something happening to the televisions, but she couldn't bring herself to say them aloud.

"I'm sure it won't be anywhere as bad as you think. I'm sure."

Krillin had turned to look at her straight in the eye. Besides her on the bench, he didn't look too short. The lights behind them were red and gold ghosts on his face.

He was much too close.

"And this party wasn't so bad, was it?"

His eyes were dark, and for the first time Juuhachigou could see that they were not truly black, but a very dark gray. "I guess not."

He beamed at her. Then moved even closer and she was certain he could hear her heartbeat.

Krillin mouth was soft and warm against her cheek. It lasted five point six seconds, her sensors told her, with an odd dignity. Just reporting the news here, lady. "Good night."

Another blood vessel popped. Something stupid went through her head, something about seeing fireworks and swooning and about her breathe being taken away. But all that was idiotic nonsense. She _did not think that_. If there was one thing Juuhachigou was not, it was a romantic. She did not see fireworks, and was perfectly able to exhale, and she was still on the bench instead a pitiful heap on the ground and in need of a stupidly shaped couch fit for that purpose.

Then he moved away, walking back towards Capsule Corp, and even in her state of…whatever she was feeling, Juuhachigou could make out the spring in his step.

For the first time in a long time, she was unable to think. Instead, she looked up at the black sky from her boneless state on the bench, trying to inhale, and wondering how it was possible her feet were still on the ground.

Somewhere, she could nearly hear Juurokugou looking down and laughing at her.


	5. The One With The Sleep Problems

**The One with the Sleep Problems**

Thanks everyone (TheQueenOfEverything, TokiNabi, thegoffietwerb, 18Rox, SarySoda) for reviewing. Hopefully you're still reading, even though I haven't updated in forever.

You know, at first I was reluctant on this story. A little Krillin popped into my head saying 'Come on, it's too crazy.' But the more I worked at it, the more I began to like it. Sure, it's crazy and cracky, but once you give into the insanity, it's pretty good.

* * *

When she came to, her eyes did not open; she simply became aware of her surroundings. A bowl of cereal sat in front of her, and she watched a woman as blonde as her as she scrambled eggs. In fact, the shade of their hair matched the eggs that were being broken and stirred by the whisk. The other woman's was curlier though. And she was much happier.

There was the smell of bacon in the room. Like burning human flesh.

Another woman bounded into the room and gave her a cardiac arrest. "Hey, Juuhachigou!" She was smiling, and the words scrawled across her eyes and into her ears. 'Bulma Brief, Scientist of Capsule Corporation, friend of Son Goku.' Alright. Yes. She understood. This was Bulma.

Juuhachigou could understand that, but absolutely nothing else.

Something shriek at her, get up run get out, but she could not even stand.

_I wasn't even drinking last night! I wasn't even drunk!_

This amount of confusion should only be given to those who'd been severely intoxicated. It wasn't fair to be this confused, and not even hung-over. Nor had she hit her head, or stood beneath any magnets, or drank or ate anything odd.

Her last clear memory was of her living room, sitting on the couch and watching a sappy love story because it was all that was on besides golf, and nearly puking when the adorable mussed hair-ed and fashionably attractive, but depressed and lost couple cuddled on the floor of their perfectly decorated loft. Of course, the woman was shirtless because for some bizarre reason that made things more realistic. Really though, why did _she_ have to lose her shirt, why couldn't _he_ lose his, or his pants?

Then. Nothing.

"Are you ready to go? I know this great place right down the street. Then we can go to this boutique store. Oh, and then hit the mall. And I promised that I would take you to the one store on Ninth Street."

Vegeta strolled in, as ill tempered as always. He would murder her, and that would be a relief.

But instead he nodded at her, not friendly, but nearly cordial. "Tin Can." Then he revolved out of the kitchen through another door, walking out with the entire pan of bacon.

Juuhachigou returned the nod to his disappearing back, finally, still a little terrified. Since when did Vegeta not want to kill her? This was as horrifying as waking up in a place she'd never been, with people she hardly knew and being completely unable to know why and how she'd ended up here. What had she done to make Vegeta happy? _What had she done?_ And why was everyone in this damn house so damn happy?

The mystery didn't last long, thankfully.

"Thanks again for fixing his gravity room so quickly. I have no idea what he even does in there, since he doesn't train much anymore. But it keeps him out of our hair." Bulma shook her head gravely. Then she went to dig into the fridge.

"Oh, Bulma, dear," the other blonde twittered. "I have breakfast nearly done."

"No, thanks Mom, I'm just going to have something quick."

Juuhachigou watched Bulma eat an entire gallon of yogurt, finishing her own bowl of cereal because she could literally think of nothing else better to do. The two other women chattered, and the android wondered if she could drown herself in the soggy remains of cereal. No, of course that wouldn't work. She didn't need to breathe for a long period of time.

A little bald man pranced around in her head, _la la la_, while she contemplated suicide.

Neither would filling the sink with water and putting her head in it, then the plugged in toast. Too weak.

Hanging herself was completely out of the questions. The belt she could not remember owning yesterday—hell, _last night_—looked too slim and stylish to support her weight for long. Besides, there were no convenient overhead beams. Above her, it was a smooth doomed ceiling. What had ever happened to those old fashioned houses, one made of wood where you could expect to find a decent place to hang yourself? Although, her neck was probably too strong to simply snap.

Swallow a fork and either choking to death or bleed out as an artery was sliced? She might have tried it, until she remembered how her brother ate. If he could swallow chunks of beef the size of coin purses that still had hunks of bone in it, then what chance did his twin have?

Nothing here was strong enough to break her external skin. She was willing to give shoving a knife into her nose, jamming it into her brain, but what if it didn't work? What if she took that shiny butter knife in front of her, drive it into her brain, and it failed to kill her? What if it not only made her keep the memory of this time in her head, but made her as stupid as Juunanagou? Plus, she would get some funny stares from the humans in the room.

Vegeta had taken off.

Krillin had removed the bombs.

She was invincible. Never before had the concept of being indestructible given her such despair.

Juuhachigou held her forehead, not caring when her hair fell into her face. Something bad had happened last night.

"…And then there's this store that specializes in hats…"

"And there's this one place having a sale..."

_La la la_

So, she ended up going shopping with the blue-haired scientist.

It wasn't too bad. Really. Juuhachigou had never considered herself an optimist, yet she thought she had done her best to look on the bright side. New clothes, nice ones too, and free. A decent lunch. It was best to think of those things, as opposed to why she'd been there, and the gossip Bulma had told her.

Her new leather vest over Trunk's pink-eye.

The dark pairs of jeans that fit perfectly, and not all the compliments Bulma had showered about Krillin that even the android could see through. No matter how brave he was supposedly, Juuhachigou still remembered meeting him for the first time, him quaking and nothing more than a meat shield that was too afraid to even fight. His big, helpless (hopeless) eyes that pleaded _please don't hurt me, please_. Krillin couldn't scare a rabbit. Although it did make her wonder what she had said last night?

Those blouses instead of grabbing the blue-haired woman and shaking her until she explained what had happened last night.

Think about her nice new pairs of shoes, rather than about Vegeta pleasuring his wife during fornication.

Perhaps it was not so much being optimistic, as it was keeping hold of her sanity.

"You've been so quiet, Juuhachigou. Not much like last night." She laughed. Then she threw another bag into the backseat of the car. Somehow, the android ended up being the driver, which seemed unfair somehow. She kept wanting to do what her brother sometimes did, and drive the car right onto the oncoming lane and closing her eyes. Unfortunately, the traffic was too terrible and there were too many cars gridlocked for her to even attempt such a stunt.

"Why," Juuhachigou swallowed thickly. "What happened last night?"

"You don't remember?"

The android had to hold herself from having a breakdown. She thought of calming things, like Cell slowly advancing upon her, seeing her brother being absorbed by a giant bug, Krillin popping out behind a rock with a controller to shut her down. Although only the image of her brother being slid down Cell's tail was the only one that truly bothered her. The others she was increasingly neutral on.

"I'm afraid not." The blonde woman kept her voice as dry as she could.

Bulma looked incredulous. "Are you serious? You don't remember last night? At all?"

"No."

"Were you drunk?"

Her voice rose. "No, I wasn't _drunk_." Her hands shook and the road ahead of her became blurry.

"Oh." Bulma patted her shoulder and made her flinched. "Maybe you should come back to Capsule Corp. There might be something wrong with your system."

It was almost comforting to be reminded of her inhumanity. "I doubt you could help me, if that's what's happening."

"Oh, don't worry. I have some blueprints of your brother."

At Juuhachigou's sharp look, the scientist shrugged. "Krillin brought them to me from Dr. Gero's lap. That how we create that controller."

The android nearly drove the car off the side of the road. Or rather, into another car.

"What? He had the blueprints?" She'd never considered that Krillin had been somewhat responsible for creating the controller. Or that Bulma had created it. In fact, she tried not to think about the remote. It was tied to either an obsessed mad man, or Gero. Either someone was shutting her down with it, or they weren't.

Somewhere ahead, interrupting them, there was the sound of cars hitting their brakes, screams of terror that would soon turn to obscenities as the drivers' lived. Bulma didn't appear the least embarrassed by what she'd said. Apparently, she'd decided to let the past be the past, and didn't consider that Juuhachigou might feel differently.

Up ahead, she saw a line of red lights and understood they would be there for awhile.

"Yep. Brought them to me and I was able to make a device to shut you and your brother down. They also helped," she added, seeing the other woman's face, "To fix Juurokugou up."

Juuhachigou decided to just let it go. She had more pressing concerns. "But you think my memory loss might be fixed?"

"Sure, why not? When we get back to Capsule Corp, I can give things a look over. But then," the blue-haired woman frowned. "That might take awhile."

When, finally, they creped forward to see the cause of the accident after twenty minutes, the two women saw a cop questioning a car pulled over to the side, Bulma made sure to flip the car's owner the finger. His back was turned to them, but still, it counted for something in the scientist's book.

"Of course," Bulma said with righteous anger. "It was some _guy_."

"Probably a drunk. Did you see his hair?"

* * *

He yawned, then blinked at the row of red lights before him. So far, the usual commute had taken an extra hour. Of course, he could always simply grab a few bags and fly away, but that would mean abandoning the car.

Although, if he was still on this freeway an hour from now, he was taking off.

Krillin could already feel the bags beneath his fingers and imagine the defrosted groceries and—

His forehead landed on steering wheel with a soft thud which of course he couldn't hear because he was unconscious in less than a second. The sound of soft snoring filled the car.

The sound of a horn was the first thing he heard when he came to. Then it was followed by a tapping on the glass.

Someone was screaming at him, behind him, and Krillin stared up into the windshield. When he glanced at the clock, he saw that at least ten minutes had passed. The tapping continued, and he realized there was a cop outside his window.

This was a first. Not the falling asleep. Since Goku had died, Krillin's sleep had come uneasily, short and broken. Until he'd been plagued with insomnia that last only when he was trying to sleep. No matter how wracked with guilt he was, his body continued to insist that it needed rest. That it deserved it.

No matter how often he told himself that he didn't matter, that what counted was not his own aching body, but the fact that Goku would never hold his newborn son, would never talk to Gohan again, would never see his wife. That Juuhachigou had been eaten by a monster and forced to live along with her brother inside that thing for over a week. That hundreds of people had died horrible deaths, more were threatened, and even more were terrified that the end of the world had come.

Krillin still remembered hearing on the news all those people who'd died of the looting and insanity of those seven days leading up to the mock tournament Cell had arranged. Many had died stupid, pointless deaths from those just as scared as them, or from people who just no longer cared. With the police either joining in or outnumbered, there were some who simply had no motivation for following the law.

Then those who had committed suicide rather than let that monster get them. All those deaths that reporters scratched their heads over, did Cell do this?

Ropes slung over roof beams, bathtubs filled then an artery slashed, or a plastic bag wrapped around their heads or hop in with a toaster. Pills popped or snorted or inserted into their veins, maybe have a drink with it too. Wrapping a hose around an exhaust tube of a car, and turning the key; listen to the radio maybe or your favorite song until you fall asleep. Hold the gun's muzzle to your temple, in your mouth, your forehead, beneath the chin.

How about old fashioned Seppuku? Did anyone still do that anymore? Did anyone still have a sword? What about all of the above? Oh, but don't forget to take your family along for the ride. Offer to make dinner, then crush those sleeping bills or pour the drain cleaner into the soup. Take 'em for a ride, go really fast on some empty street or over a bridge. Take that rifle, but don't go hunting outside. Unscrew those pipes behind your stove, funny smell, no, don't know what you're talking about, just go lie down honey.

Ha, wasn't it _funny _how much damage one short man could do just by crushing a remote? All it took was him sparing one woman, a woman who had beaten his friends up, but oh, she had given him a kiss on the cheek. A woman who ended up nearly dying anyway.

Who knew so many people could be effected world-wide by not pressing a button?

All those people harmed, but not killed that filled the hospitals still?

Wasn't love grand?

Those people had been brought back, but as Krillin could have told anyone, just being alive wasn't enough. Being out of immediate danger could only make you happy for so long. Some had gone onto just committing suicide again.

He could only imagine what it must have been like to have been brought back to face your family after you tried to spare them a horrible death. What must have dinners been like? Did they just sit there, over their meatloaf and mashed potatoes and not say anything? Did you apologize, or just scrape your fork some more against the plate and wait and wait until finally maybe you snapped and went out for a long drive that you wouldn't return from? Did they joke about it? Did you thank them for doing it?

Such a thought would stick in his mind for one reason or other.

He deserved this discomfort for what he'd done. It was laughable to assume otherwise. Unfortunately, this made things, like driving, difficult. Krillin was willing to learn to deal with it. He promised himself to never drive again. It was too dangerous and he might hit an innocent person with his car. His hands were stained with enough blood.

The longer he stayed up, the more the novelty of finding himself staring up at the bathroom's ceiling while he lay on cold tile disappeared. Or in the living room, half on the couch and more importantly, half off. Or the kitchen, leaning against the fridge with one leg frozen. Sometimes, in the chair in his room, face on his desk, drooling. For the last few months, this was his life.

Krillin would adjust.

Or not. Did it matter?

But the part where there was a police officer there, that was new.

His hat sat perfectly on his head, and the shorter man nearly admired how picture perfect the man was. The officer could have been on one of Oolong's police dramas. He was really just a kid, Gohan in a few years. Right around the time Krillin was meeting Goku and studying with Master Roshi, this guy was playing with toy police cars and was being taught to use a toilet rather than a diaper. Only a few years older than Juuhachigou and her brother, maybe.

They must have hired him to help deal with the Cell fiasco and aftermath. He made Krillin feel old, and wonder what he'd been doing when he was that age. Probably bumming about the country side, training for the next tournament, wondering where his friends were, and if there would be any pretty girls at the Budôkai. Or anywhere else where he would go, including this new town up ahead or even better, this small road he was sleeping on. And if any of these pretty girls would be impressed by his sudden growth spurt and new martial arts skills.

They wouldn't be, of course.

In retrospect, maybe that was why he was so bitter and upset when Chi-Chi had arrived to woo and wed Goku.

In retrospect, those lonely three year should have taught him to let shaving his head go sooner.

Krillin rolled down the window.

"Have you been drinking, sir?"

"Nope," he said, but the heat and sleep made the word come out like taffy. "Nooooooopppe."

The perfect cop was unimpressed. "Why don't you step out of the car for me?"

* * *

After a physical exam that made Juuhachigou squirm with embarrassment, and more so at some of Bulma's questions, they still hadn't found what was wrong. There's a lot Juuhachigou is not aware of, of her human half. Physically, however, she was fine. The scientist gently breached the subject of it perhaps being something psychological, and was quickly swatted down by the expression on Juuhachigou's face.

"This was a waste of time." Then she remembered the capsule in her pocket that contained her new clothes. "Well, except for shopping."

Bulma waved as she walked through the door. "If you ever want someone to talk to, or ask for my opinion on outfits, stop by again. Good luck!"

Back home, the cabin looked smaller than ever. The rain gutter was hanging off the building. Still.

She kicked her brother, whose head was the only part visible from his hole in the ground. Her brother looked up at her closely and for once she was grateful he was there. He put down his shovel. "You were out early."

"Where were you?" His eyes were narrowed.

"I hope you didn't blow anything up."

She waited.

Then he rolled his eyes. "Did you go shopping again?"

And then she felt safe and could go back inside the house with her head held high and dignity intact. This was something she couldn't quite share with her twin. It was too humiliating.

He wouldn't be able to help; he'd probably find it funny. Juuhachigou could see his face alive with mirth. 'You've been sleepwalking?'

'Seriously, sis?'

She ground her teeth. Then she shook her head. It didn't matter. After all, she was a cyborg. With her mechanically enhancements, she didn't need to eat much, or breathe, or sleep.

So, she just wouldn't sleep.

And she didn't. For an entire week.

For an entire week, the blonde stayed up, annoying her brother, watching television, and going shopping for things she didn't need. She ran wiring through the walls, like they should have gone the first place so no one would trip over cords in the middle of the night as they wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water and ended up spilling it all over her new outfit. She fixed whatever was broken, helped with the roofing and installing a fence around the property, and spent days at a far away library. Sometimes, she would fly over the oceans, over the tiny islands where no one lived, and would shudder without knowing why when she'd see a giant sea turtle. Or spend the evening looking up at the stars, trying to make out the constellations, and failing.

She ended up watching that crappy romance move three times, and laughing hysterically every time the girl took a shower and hit her head, almost drowning until the man broke down the door and saved her. Really, if she thought taking a shower in that terrible, unfinished loft was a good idea when she still half asleep, then she deserved the brain damage.

Overall, the situation wasn't a problem. She had unlimited energy and was one of the strongest beings on the planet. This was nothing.

Juuhachigou was confident that she could keep this up for a long time.

* * *

He came awake on the beach, when the giant, thousand year old turtle prodded him. His mouth was full of sand.

"Krillin. Are you okay?"

Krillin could only nod.

Then he sat up.

For the first time, clearly, on this tiny island with sand down the back of his underwear, he allowed himself to think about Juuhachigou. As her as an actual person rather than something to feel shame and guilt over. She was out there, somewhere, existing. Breathing and taking up space.

The short man could see her before him, dressed in something casual and looking like nothing more than a young woman. Of course, if she saw him again, she might hurt him. As revenge for having a crush on her, for doing all he could to help her, for not doing enough. She could do so much better than him it was kind of humorous that he could even have feelings for her. Krillin couldn't even wrap his mind fully around ever asking her out, let alone having a relationship and future together.

Everyone still laughed over his crush on her.

"Man," Yamcha's hand was warm on his back. "What were you thinking? Not that she was cute, but wouldn't you want a girl that couldn't kill you with one finger?"

"Boy," Master Roshi looked at him over his sunglasses. "Stop moping. Goku wouldn't want you to do this. How about you, me and Oolong head out this Friday to this wet t-shirt contest?"

"Krillin, do you know what would make you feel better?" Chi-Chi sounded so earnest. "You could take me to my Lamaze class. That would definitely make you feel better. You can even rub my back and act as my coach when Piccolo's not there."

Bulma's eyes were not without sympathy. "Maybe I can talk to some of my friends, see if they're interest or know someone who is?"

Krillin refused all offers, whether they involved dates or sympathy or learning to change a plastic doll's diaper or leering at wet drunken girls. They wouldn't like him anyway, those girls. Maybe giggle at him or roll their eyes, making him blush harder and force his eyes even lower to the ground.

He missed her.

Juuhachigou was a woman he hardly knew, had seen roughly four times, none of which were exactly positive for either of them except for when she got to beat his friends up. He didn't even know her real name, didn't know if _she_ knew her real name. He didn't know what type of music she liked, or her favorite movie or color. In fact, the only emotions he'd seen from her had been anger, fear, smugness, cold amusement, and reluctant gratitude.

But _still_.

Did that mean he couldn't miss her? He loved her. Wasn't he allowed to miss her?

Maybe the fact that he loved her allowed him to miss her?

Or was it the other way around?

_I need to see her again._

And it wasn't the needy voice talking either. This was the voice that told him to duck, to jump, to run. That instinct voice. You listened to that voice. Or you died in some messy fashion.

_She could help me with this._

Well, at least she could beat him into unconsciousness. Was that what he needed? Every time he thought he found a solution, an answer, there was another question. But just being near her would help, somehow. Just looking into her eyes, perhaps exchanging a few words just to hear the sound of her voice in his ears, soothing him. Then he could sleep peacefully.

It was irrelevant anyway. He would probably never see her again. She definitely didn't care about him. Hell, she'd told him so straight to his face, and had never stopped by here to say hello and for a cool drink. No matter what she had maybe said about seeing him again, clearly that was just something to be said to fill the awkward void. Another sign of pity, along with that kiss. Those were the only gifts Juuhachigou had given him.

The ex-monk couldn't even find it within himself to say that he deserved otherwise. His own gifts were even paltrier. How much were his heart and soul and sanity, especially to someone like Juuhachigou?

Krillin brushed the sand from his pants, and then spat out a mouthful of it.

_But still._

He could always _imagine _some scenario where she would come back into his life. Maybe that would help?

She would be flying by, and stop suddenly for an awkward hello. They could spar, exchange polite conversation that meant everything to him and nothing to her. Then something would happen, a slipped word or sentence that turned everything on its head. Maybe someone had had too much to drink, or was feeling down. A soft look or touch. Then anything could happen. He would find the right words to say, and she would respond to them.

Things would work out perfectly in this fantasy world.

* * *

This time, on top of suddenly becoming aware of what was around her, shampoo stung her eyes. She stared at the bar of soap in her hand. It was blue and smelled pleasant. The water coming down overhead was growing cool. Someone was knocking on the door.

Things did not connect.

Juuhachigou stared down into the drain, watching bubbles and sand swirl around before disappearing.

"Hey, are you done in there?" Her heart, robotically enhanced or not, fell to her feet. She nearly saw it clogging the drain.

"Master Roshi?"

She was not Master Roshi. She knew that to the depths of her soul.

Especially when the old man spoke up from downstairs. "Hm, what is it Krillin?"

"Nothing! I thought you were in the shower."

Another voice spoke up. "Jeez, will you two spoke yelling?"

"Oolong?"

They all did the math in their head.

There was another polite knock on the door.

"Umigame?" The tone bordered on fearful.

A dopey voice spoke up from outside. "What is it Krillin?"

No. She would not be found like this. She tore down the curtains, and grabbed for a towel in front of her. The android dried herself off, not realizing how stupid that was until five seconds later. Clothes, not ones she recognized, sat neatly on a hamper. She pulled them on so quickly, it was truly a wonder that they did not rip. Thank Kami for Bulma's fine expertise in finding resilient clothing.

The window was small, but Juuhachigou was still damp from the shower, and was willing to try.

Juuhachigou went back home with wet hair, and the cabin looked a pretty decent size now. The color was quite flattering, actually. Her brother, gamely struggling to untangle barbed wire, looked up.

She clasped her hands. "So."

"So what?"

"I've been having some sleeping problems lately."

"Yes, I know. You really screwed the roof up, you know that right?"

"I fixed it far better-I've been sleepwalking."

"Sleepwalking? How is that possible?"

"I don't know."

"And you sleepwalked again? Didn't you? That's why you were gone?" Juunanagou took in her appearance clearly.

"Why are you wet?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Her voice was leaden.

Her brother's face perked up. "What did you do, Juuhachi? You can tell me?" A grin threatened to ruin his helpful tone.

"Did you go swimming?"

"Shut up."

"Is that _soap_? What did _you do_?

"Seriously. Why do you have shampoo in your hair? What did you do?"

She wanted to answer him, but there really is no answer to give him.

_If staying up all night won't work…_

Again, the mechanically enhanced woman pledged to herself to find a way to make this never happen again. Tie herself to a bed, or have her brother watch her when she sleeps. Yes, that will work fine. Her brother might draw a mustache on her face in Sharpie pen, but it wasn't like she couldn't seek revenge for that.

When night arrived, she held her younger brother by his shoulders. "I'm trusting you to make sure I don't do anything crazy."

"Like what you did to the roof?"

"Just make sure I don't leave the house. If I try to leave, stop me by any means necessary. I trust you Juunanagou, to do this."

"Fine," he shrugged and waived her off. "Just sleep. I'll make sure you don't jump into anyone's showers."

She looked at him sharply.

"So was anyone in there, or where you alone?"

* * *

Krillin stared for a long time at the bottle. He'd never gotten drunk before, and had never planned on it. Either from disinterest or fear of losing control when drinking.

At Bulma's Christmas Parties, alcohol tended to flow like water. What happened there stuck in his mind since he had the disadvantage of being sober and therefore keeping all of his memories. The short man had seen too many of his friends' unconscious on the floor, with their head on empty plates or bowl, passed on furniture which was never meant to be used as a bed.

Goku and Chi-Chi, after getting into the schnapps since somehow in the mother's mind they didn't count as real alcohol, end up dancing on a table to the catcalls of the others. 'Get a room!' they jeer when the two start to kiss, and as the party continues and Goku and Chi-Chi disappear, the group finds out in the morning that they did get a room after all.

Well, not exactly a room-more like Vegeta's training chamber.

Yamcha, flirting with a confused blue-haired Lunch, until Tien stumbled over, and the sad fight that ends up with pepper flying through the hair and the two men having to go to the hospital to have bullets removed from various appendages. Krillin driving them there, while the scarred bandit yelled at the three-eyed man not to get blood on the backseat, ignoring how his own wounds stain all the way to the ceiling of the car. The shame and bloody bandages at the pancake house they got to later to eat and drink enough caffeine to fight off the hangover.

"We're slipping," Tien said solemnly, while Yamcha asked him to pass the strawberry syrup.

Chiaotzu bartending and arguing with Piccolo, cutting him off from the pure spring water. Chi-Chi, six months pregnant, had to separate them. It ends with Piccolo and the dark-haired woman fighting over 'the children'. Chiaotzu ends up giving them shots of whiskey and tap water until the Namek and Chi-Chi settle their differences over a good melancholic rant over on how big and strong Gohan has gotten. Only when Goten preferred to eat rather than understand the block letter of his toy alphabet set did they question and remember the wisdom of giving a pregnant woman alcohol.

Krillin wasn't saying anything definite of course; but then, neither was Goten.

Vegeta, after having some of the spiked punch argued with Bulma, screaming at each other, until they immediately throw themselves at each other and ending up on the floor, ignoring everyone's panicked yell. Pandemonium breaking out as they rolled underfoot, only exasperated by Bulma ripping his leotard. Followed by both older and baby Trunk's matching horrified expression as they descend down the stairs at the wrong time; the older purple-haired man nearly dropped the infant.

It was supposed to have been a wake for Goku, which made what they'd done worse to the drunk, crying, mourning people who'd gathered.

These memories, they stay with Krillin and he knew they would never be washed from his head. But maybe, with a little bit of booze, he can at least push back the image of Vegeta's horrified face when he opened his training chamber to find a woozy naked Goku and Chi-Chi. It was hard to tell who vomited more, Goku or Chi-Chi or Vegeta.

No.

No, it had been Vegeta.

But, regardless, he would drink this entire bottle, and then he would sleep.

It tasted like hot garbage and lit a fire on the way down his stomach. People did this for enjoyment. What was enjoyable about this?

At a third of the way down, Krillin was able to begin remembering the stupid stuff he'd seen and done. He could remember, without shuddering, his early years training with Master Roshi and Goku. He'd actually competed and held his own with the spiky-haired alien, even if he had to be a completely little bastard to beat him. Being so short sucked, especially when he'd been like two feet tall—but that was all in the past. He could laugh when he remembered that stupid vampire guy and that smelly giant. Look at how happy he was, how hard he laughed over the horrible experiences in his life. Officially, he was truly an adult now. He could even push out those news reports of all those unexplained deaths.

Another finger of whiskey that tasted of small woody islands went down his gullet, and questions, meaningless and answerless swirled in his head and killed his happy grin. Where was Lunch anyway? Why did Maron have to flirt with every guy she saw? Why was Vegeta such a dick? Had Goku's mother swigged alcohol throughout her pregnancy? What was with Tien's third eye? How come the androids only beat his friends up? Why had Juuhachigou have to kiss him and screw up his entire life? What was with their clothes?

At half-way empty, darkness crowded in. Everything was blurry, and nothing has disappeared. Instead, things are thrown into a sharper focus. All the humiliating beatings over the years, the ones that were unnumbered in quantity and would continue his whole life Krillin was sure. There was no way he deserved all of that shit. His own flaws are magnetized, _why was he so short, where are his parents, why doesn't he have a nose, everyone else has a nose except for him,_ and halfway through a good cry, he passed out.

He did not hear a window being opening, the thud of someone falling through the new entrance and cursing, or feel himself being dragged back into the bedroom like a carcass by the collar of his shirt. Nor did he hear the sound of a zipper or the shuffle of fabric, or the new feeling of the breeze on his legs. Thankfully, or unfortunately, the short man also did not notice a warm body aligning itself with his.

His roommates however did hear the dull sound of his feet being scuffed on the wooden floorboards. They followed the sound, slowly, with dry mouths. Master Roshi was the one brave enough to open the door to Krillin's room. It fell open with a creak, and after they take in the image, the door closed with another.

"We will not speak of this," the wizened martial artist said, slowly.

Oolong nodded. "Still though, who would have thought Krillin was capable of something like that."

"Learned from the best." They pat each other on the back, and as a sign of kindness, decide to wait until morning to take a picture of Krillin and his date.

* * *

Consciousness comes back like a drowning man being shoved back up to surface by the wave that pulled him down in the first place. Krillin's eyes fell open, squinting at the bright searing light that fell perfectly onto his face.

His neck hurt.

When he turned it slightly, wanting to look at the clock on the wall, he saw a flash of the purest yellow. Resting against his shoulder was the woman he never thought he'd see again. White flawless skin tinged delicately with pink burned his corneas far more than the light ever did.

His gaze moved downward. He could see her bra. It was black, and had lace. At this angle, it was far too small and short. The house was covered with stacks of porn, on a bad day he sees at least fifteen and a half breasts. But still, none of them can even compare. It's amazing, how they're there taking up space and existing and doing it so nicely, and him having such an amazing view.

Her face was at ease, like this moment everything was okay. Every muscle on her lovely face was relaxed. Her mouth was open, and in another universe, he might have imagined kissing her without wanting to run away.

Also amazing, how she could seem so peaceful at moments when it seemed like the world was about to end.

His eyes nearly tumbled out of his sockets. The ex-monk could see them splattering against the clean wooden floor, sizzling in the sun while blood trickled down his face and chest to pool into his lap.

How exactly could the best moment of his life be so bad? Why did this stuff have to happen to him?

_We did nothing, _Krillin told himself. _Absolutely nothing._

_Just because we're laying on my bedroom floor, together. _

_My god, is she spooning me?_

_And she's not wearing a shirt. And I don't remember anything. And I was drunk._

_And…where are my pants?_

_Where are my pants?_

There was no question of him moving. He laid there and waited, trying not to look at her. _La di da,_ _the most beautiful woman I've ever seen is lying next to me not wearing a shirt. La di da_

Eventually, she awoke.

It was as lovely as the sunset after a nuclear explosion. He was reminded of her being awoken by Dende at Kami's place. The way her eyes had snapped open in startled confusion. That furious blue-eyed face replacing what had been relaxed and at peace. Krillin wondered what had gone through her mind at that point.

She must have been pretty frightened. 'Oh my god, they're going to kill me. Where's Cell and my friends? Ugh, what is that creepy bald guy doing here? Dear god, _why am I damp_?' Now, amazingly, she looked resigned to see him lying next to her.

"Of course," Juuhachigou's voice was bitter. "Of course."

She glanced downward. Then at him. Krillin was astounded that she still looked calm.

"I am not going to think about why I did this. Really, I'm not.

"I…I took your pants?

"Was I _spooning _you?

"No, don't answer that."

"Where are your pants?" They looked around the room, still not seeing them. Krillin peaked under the bed, then the reality of the situation hit him. The comforter's end hit the floor again.

"_You_ did this?"

Juuhachigou froze. She groped out for her shirt, eyes not meeting his.

"Not. Exactly."

"'Not exactly?' What does that mean? You only took off my pants, but someone else made you spoon me?"

Her delicate nose scrunched. "Were you drunk last night?"

"That doesn't matter."

"No?" She raised an eyebrow. "How do you know that you didn't do this?"

"I dragged you here, drunk, took off my pants, and," His voice cracked. "Your shirt?"

"Well, how would you know? You were drunk."

He'd imagined meeting Juuhachigou again. In a romantic setting, with candle-lit tables and French food, them both dressed nicely. She would smile and crack a joke about his fedora, her clothed in a stunning red dress, and he would sigh and nod in a world-weary matter before pulling out a chair for her. "Out of all the escargot joints in the world, you had to step into this one."

Or right before a new enemy arrived, perhaps Frieza's third-cousin, angry because he'd had some stuff stored in his cousin's ship that was destroyed. Right before the energy blast killed him, he would see her in the corner of his eye. She would look confused, why would someone store a couch in a spaceship, then perhaps a little sad while all of his skin was boiled off his bones.

In none of them did they meet again partially undressed, not even in the more lecherous fantasies, sadly enough. Even in those she was usually clothed, because his brain didn't even dare to undress her even in the safety of his head with the door locked and the lights off in the middle of the night. Somehow, like a signal, a beacon, calling out to her, she would sense what he was doing and knock down the wall and catch him. "AH-HAH!" The blonde cyborg would yell and point, while he struggled to pull his pants up.

There was no alcohol involved whatsoever, except for that one dream where he'd walked into her at a saloon in this weird western dream he'd had—-one that ended with her tying him to her horse right before she slapped the huge stallion, who had an orange Mohawk, across the ass. Right before he awoke, he would see Juuhachigou tipping back a cowboy hat and lighting a cigar, before turning to the constable, her brother, and asking where she could find some decent clothes. Her tasseled dress had been cute though.

Lying on the ground, noticing now that he should sweep more under the bed, most definitely was not in the plan. Any spooning would not happen until after a few safe pleasant dates, and even then it would be carefully scheduled and he would make sure she was comfortable. And damnit, he would be the one to do the spooning…Although, this way was a little better. Less embarrassing in some ways since her stomach was against his back and not the other way around, and since she was the taller one it made a little more sense.

But, while perhaps she had agreed to it, he had not.

"Juuhachigou." His voice was flat. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything." It was odd to see her scrambling for excuses. Like cuddling, it was something that he should be doing instead of her. "It was my brother's fault. He should have made sure that I didn't wander into your house again."

"You," he looked at her with new accusing eyes. Oolong had thought that the house was haunted, and forced Krillin to burn incense in the shower stall and hum a jingle from TV, doing his best to convince the shape shifting pig he was repeated a Buddhist song about serenity necessary for doing an exorcism. "It was _you_ in the shower that day, wasn't it?"

She just looked away for a long moment. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Are you stalking me?"

"No." Juuhachigou said it so firmly, that Krillin was a little disappointed. Did he want her to stalk him? It would be nice to know she cared, even in a creepy, trespassing sort of way. Sure, he wouldn't want her to beat up every woman that he talked to, but it would be nice to know that she liked him.

"Okay. So, what's going on?"

She cleared her throat. "With what?"

"_Juuhachigou_."

Her voice was too reasonable. "How about this, we just find your pants and forget this ever happened?"

They just sat there, not exactly comfortable, but too afraid of what might happen if one of them left the other alone. With just their thoughts. Juuhachigou pulled on her shirt, and Krillin couldn't resist watching, squirming as he did so. Occasionally, the two would glance around the room for the rest of his clothes.

"You know," he did his best to sound casual although a headache and a mouth that tasted of garbage were arising as he realized he would not be summarily drawn and quartered, "I haven't slept this well in a long time."

She looked at him, too disgusted to be flabbergasted, _what the hell are you talking about, what the hell is wrong with you_, but she'd broken into his home at least twice, so her expression had little effect on him. For once with a woman, the short man thought he had the upper hand. _She_, right now, was weirder than he was. So he would say whatever the hell he wanted.

"Really. I didn't have any bad dreams, or insomnia, or sleepwalking, or anything."

Now her eyes were wider than ever. The android looked caught out, like when Krillin would play hide and go seek with Trunks and Gohan, and catch one of them before they could find a place to hide. She glanced down at her hands, automatically pushing back a strand of hair that fell into her face. But the blonde woman appeared to be listening.

"Lately, I've been having some sleep problems."

"I see."

Krillin waited for the explanation. Surely she would give one to explain all of her insanity. He hoped that it was a matter of sleepwalking. At least he could revel in the fact that her subconscious took his pants off. No one, conscious or otherwise, had ever done such a thing to him. If it wasn't something like sleepwalking, or some part of being a cyborg that Bulma had never mentioned to him, then she had flat out lost her mind.

But then, he stole a peek at her through his eyelashes, she seemed okay. Maybe a little crazy, but he could deal with that. It wasn't like she was hurting anyone; just taking off their clothes.

"I…maybe I haven't had such an easy time sleeping either."

"Insomnia?"

"…let's say yes. And lately, I have awoken to find myself…"

"In people's homes?"

"Yes."

"In their showers."

Juuhachigou turned to snap at him. "Just yours!"

"I'm honored."

She made a move to hit him, and not like the slaps that Bulma and Chi-Chi gave, this one would be even more painful. "You think I want to hear your stupid little jokes? Do you think I_ have_ to hear your stupid little jokes?"

"Yes, I know, you can beat me up, you and everyone else." Krillin looked under the bed for the rest of his clothes.

When Juuhachigou threw herself at him, snarling, her fingers drawing blood and raising bruises in the first ten seconds, he didn't see it coming at all. He grabbed her by her shoulders, trying to throw her off and had to settle for shifting her slightly. Instead of taking the pathetic cue, she only grabbed _him_ by his shoulder and pulled him upward.

"You're pathetic."

Slammed downward.

"I hate you. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Upward.

"What is wrong with _me_?"

Downward. He saw stars.

"Why did I do this? What is it about you?"

He really wished he was wearing pants.

"Juuhachigou."

"No, no," She absently shoved some strand of her hair out of her face, pushing them behind her ear and further mussing her hair. "I want an answer."

"I don't have one."

"Did one of your friends do something?"

"No, of course not!"

"Then how do you explain this?"

"_You_ explain it!" He tried to shove her off, and only managed to strain his shoulders. "This is _your_ problem! You came in here, and stole _my_ pants. It's on you."

"Then why," her voice was rising, and Krillin nearly expected to hear glass shatter. "Am I in your bedroom, _taking off your stupid pants_!"

"I don't know!"

"Well, I don't know either. I don't like you."

Something particularly stupid slipped out, "How come?"

Her nostrils flared, and really, it was funny how all the women in his life were so angry at him all the time. He really needed to be wearing pants for moments like these. "Do you really want to have this discussion now?"

"Well, maybe that's your problem. That's why you're sleepwalking and doing all this crazy stuff."

Her eyes seemed to jitter, darting around his face. But she didn't move a millimeter. "I don't have a problem, except with you."

"Then why are you coming to my house?"

She ran a hand through her thin hair. He would have given a couple of fingers for the chance to do the same. "I don't know."

Juuhachigou no longer sounded angry. Just tired and worn out. All that calmness she'd acquired from being asleep was gone. Now she was defeated. When he slid his arm around her shoulder in an attempt to comfort, or stir up any emotion besides failure, she didn't immediately shove a hand through his chest. Truly, she was a broken woman.

"I'm sorry," Krillin managed out, amazed that she was letting him touch her. So deep was his surprise that he flinched a little when she shifted and brushed against his bare leg.

She sighed. "Really, where could I have put your pants?"

"You look stupid in just your underwear."

They nearly leaned against each other, the moment almost nice, when his Master downstairs started to yell. "Boy, hurry up and make us breakfast! Bring the blonde girl down; just remember to pick up your pants from the front lawn."

There was crude laughter. "She can leave hers up there, though."

Just like that, she was back, shoving Krillin away and straightening her clothes. "I'm going to kill them."

But, she didn't, only throwing them in walls and breaking a pan over the old hermit's head. And the next night, she came back. Until he grew more accustomed to have her in his bedroom than not. She never talked about anything much. _"It doesn't matter. Just go to bed."_ And he could never quite ask what she was doing there. Or how any of this had happened. Or why he didn't mind being awoken by her shifting in her seat or just from sensing her presence.

Sometimes, he would awake with her sitting by his desk, just staring at him. Then, sometimes he would find her passed out on the floor, or sprawled asleep on his chair. Juuhachigou would occasionally snore, and as the weather turned to winter, Krillin could get out of his warm bed and cover her with a warm blanket.

When she awoke to him doing this, he would just shush her. "Never mind. Go back to sleep."


	6. The One In The Future

**(This**_** was,**_** at least a year ago, a light-hearted AU where Krillin was in a terrible band with the other fighters…and the twins were models that ran a corporation, and Juunanagou, like**_**, ODed**_** on cocaine and Sixteen made Krillin their manager they all ended up taking a road trip in an RV…and it had no conclusion or climax and was kind of a mess. Just a terrible mess.**

**(and I realized, this isn't going anywhere and isn't good enough to be even a one-shot in this collection, and needed something, something more-**

**(**_**dramatic **_**because you know, I don't write enough angst.**

**(and I realized that I haven't mentioned the Future timeline at all…**

**(Thus, everything was scrapped and this particular story was idea was expanded and written in the last two months. So now you know why it's taken me so long to put this out. Thankfully, the next chapter is already finished and should be posted soon)**

* * *

Never be disenchanted of  
That place you sometimes dream yourself into,  
Lying at large remove beyond all dream,  
Or those you find there, though but seldom  
In their company seated -

The untameable, the live, the gentle.  
Have you not known them? Whom? They carry  
Time looped so river-wise about their house  
There's no way in by history's road  
To name or number them.

In your sleepy eyes I read the journey  
Of which disjointedly you tell; which stirs  
My loving admiration, that you should travel  
Through nightmare to a lost and moated land,  
Who are timorous by nature.

**Through Nightmare-**_Robert Graves_

"But all the while Persephonē knew how brief that beauty was: fruits, flowers, leaves, all the fair growth of the earth, must end with the coming of the cold and pass like herself into the power of death. After the lord of the dark world carried her away she was never again the gay young creature who had played in the flowery meadow without a thought of care or trouble." ~ Edith Hamilton, "Mythology".

* * *

Krillin came into the lab, carrying the thing as though bearing Ophelia fresh from the river. The water dripped from their clothes until it became a puddle at beneath his boots. Silver bright hair, silver on his cheeks from the rain. Outside, the wind was howling at the lightless moon, like the Earth was waiting for revenge for what it had suffered through or like a man she'd once known. His own mother, had she ever known him, wouldn't have recognized him through the blood. Eyes blind, looking ahead, unable take in anything before him.

Then he was blinking, moving forward. "Bulma. Bulma."

There was so much blood, and she felt a hand choking her throat again. Again. Again. Again. "Gohan, where's Gohan?"

On Namek, even on Namek, he'd never looked this way. "He's fine—getting patched up by your Mom."

Which didn't sound like fine to her.

She saw Gohan in a flash from years ago, brave and strong, his father's son, looking over his shoulder at her as the wind from the dying planet blew by. Young and beautiful but doomed, as Goku had never looked. No, Goku had never even dared to contemplate his own mortality, could not think he might die, to consider that he might sacrifice himself to be brave as his own Dad; Goku had never even known his father. Beautiful and damned, could that be, as he looked back, just as he had when leaving the house with Krillin.

_He's alive. He's alive, and he's going to be fine. _She didn't notice her hands coming together until they were squeezing together painfully. Nails bitten to the quick, pink and calloused and still dirty under what was left of those fingernails. These things somehow belonged to her still.

_Gohan's alive and so is Krillin. And so am I. _Part of the group that actually knew what Goku looked like, and how hard he'd fought and all that he'd done. Knew of his smile, and the terrible peace that had finally came over his pale face in the end. Buried in that field outside the house he'd grown up. Gone around the world, had_ saved_ the world, had even left the planet and gone to a far stretch of space to save the day_ again_, and ended up right back where he had been practically born. Where he had landed to begin the mission he'd thankfully never completed.

"He's okay, really." Blinking, trying to bring himself back to this moment. "We did it. It's over."

But Bulma couldn't look away from the body in his arms. The blonde hair across the forearm, and the sleeping pale face. Her fingers came unstuck. Bulma knew that face. "The other one…?"

"Dead." His Adam's apple jumped. "Dead."

"But you saved—saved her."

"She was." Krillin stepped further into the lab, heavy footsteps. Nearly swooning. Dark stubble showed on his head, the first time Bulma had ever seen him with _any _hair. "She was…I thought-"

Alive.

Bulma took a step back.

How could this thing still be alive?

What Goku had helped teach them all during his time on Earth. The fighters all seemed to try their best to follow his example, to some extent. Even Vegeta had at least been taught humility. But his name alone was a fresh cut to her heart that made her eyes sting. Pity and mercy could be signs of bravery, but Bulma no longer felt either of those emotions anymore; they had died alongside Vegeta.

"I thought we could use her."

* * *

"Gohan. Here, buddy." Krillin adjusted the knitted, scratchy scarf around his neck, and Gohan waited for it to be over. To not squirm. People, they still treated him like he was a little kid, and he hated acting like one.

But he'd still taken this scarf when his Mom had handed it to him, and hadn't even put it on right.

It was that voice again. The one that asked all the questions.

And what were you doing, when Dad died? Everyone else was there, even Vegeta, even Trunks, who was now walking and talking.

He had run away as fast as he could. And then he hadn't come back fast enough.

His Dad's face, still, blasé, as though not particularly interested anymore in getting up or even his own death. Not afraid, not unhappy, not particularly at peace, almost like he was thinking of something not all that important that he couldn't quite remember.

After that, nothing had really been the same. Even after Goku had seemingly died against Freiza, there hadn't been such a stillness in the air. They had just been waiting, during that time, spending the time with one ear out for Goku's laugh to come again, as Gohan had heard seemingly a thousand times before. In the house at the dinner table, outside as they fished or sparred, or even in a fight.

Six months.

Maybe it had been Kami's influence that made Piccolo attack the androids first. Or maybe the two androids had sought him out, knowing about the dragonballs, and not wanting anyone to attempt stopping them. It had been the first blow, been the most serious wound and it had festered. Sunk its teeth in and began to chew away at the others. They had been searching for survivors from the latest attack, all of them, all of what was left of them, when Vegeta had died.

Gohan would always put on his father's colors when he fought.

He wore them now, even though he might have been better off in more layers.

But Krillin wore the same, and it felt good to feel like a real fighter again. No matter how cold it was here, as Krillin continued to go on about, shivering exaggeratedly. Trying to make Gohan laugh.

The map printout and magazine article, useless really, were passed back and forth. With only the light from their ki, also carefully kept low, it took hours to find anything that looked close. A small camp set up, and neither said anything about the old days of nights spent under the stars. Countless times packing a tent and never finding all the right poles. Him with a book on maybe fauna tucked under his pillow, Bulma and Yamcha and Oolong and maybe Piccolo with them, all of them talking and maybe drinking beer that made their 'adult' jokes so hilarious when they thought he'd fallen asleep. And his Dad would be there, of course, eating all the food and not understanding the jokes they made about sex and bills and significant others. Hearing their voices, and feeling so safe, closing his eyes when he couldn't see the ceiling of his tent anymore.

Remembering that and nothing else allowed him to sleep and not worry about his mother back at home, who was worried about him in return.

It didn't seem to be much of anything, really, when compared to being on Namek. Still _Earth_, after all, with the same insects chirping and the sun setting. No aliens here (except _him,_ sort of) to run from or towards.

Gohan could nearly feel the weight of the planet, it's gravity pulling at him, and felt a helpless love like when his father had taken him to watch a certain clutch of dinosaur eggs hatching, holding him up when he'd been much small to get a better view. Loving the dinosaur family, and worrying about them, loving his dad and not daring to think anything bad could happen to him-Goku larger and stronger than any of those dinosaurs, holding his hand and leading him home as they came up with names for those babies. Smelling wild grass, laundry dried on the line, and maybe his mom's cooking or just his imagination and that was nearly as good.

And when they got home, there would be homework and his parents joking about the 'field trip' and easily loving each other and maybe his Mom would let him stay up and extra hour to watch TV. Falling asleep on the couch between his parents, and Dad would wake him up a little when he carried him to his bed, telling him that everything was okay and to go back to sleep.

This was _his_ planet, and he had to protect it.

These facts that had been so inescapable, more so than the gravity of Earth.

All of it so clear, in this half-asleep state; he'd been safe and loved here. How could he not try to save the day, like the others had? To help others feel the same way, rather than losing their own parents because of the androids? Losing their kids…

Could hear crickets or cicadas maybe, and the wind rushing through and the fire crackling as it ate through the supply of wood. Krillin's breathing, too fast to be asleep.

Where were_ his_ parents, anyway? Were they still alive, or had they died, before Gohan had even been born asleep? Krillin had wanted kids too, marriage and kids, as he'd talked about occasionally on Namek and made jokes about over the years. Weird to really think about, him having a girlfriend and a couple of children. Were those things even possible now, with the androids running loose? Bulma was always so afraid of leaving Trunks out of her sight…And again he could feel the fist around his heart, what must be a sort of _tenderness_ for his friends remaining.

Bulma and Trunks needed to be watched out for, especially maybe Trunks who was running around now and loved to chase Gohan and to swing his plastic bat around and knock everything he could reach over. He was another half-Saiyan, and sometimes when Bulma looked at Gohan, he knew that she was wondering how her own son would turn out and when he would have to fight. Krillin, who was only human, and like an uncle to him (better than his _real _uncle) and would have sacrificed everything he had to make sure that Gohan and the rest of his friends were okay, and who had the best knock-knock jokes to tell Trunks and deserved to be happy. They all had to be protected.

He was the only one that could really do that. Trunks was just a little kid still, and would need to be trained. Someone had to teach him about what he was, and how to fight and someone would need to take him fishing and show him which berries to eat and how to make a fire. Krillin was the only fighter that had been trained by Master Roshi, and couldn't do anything against the androids.

_It wasn't fair_, but that was a little kid thought.

But everyone was dead, his dad and all his friends, all the strongest fighters hadn't been strong enough to stop them.

At least Bulma had a plan. They had a plan. And might not even have to fight the androids.

It could be simple.

They might be able to save the day, as they had every other time. Even without the others. And if the others were watching, they would see that things were going to be okay, and—and…

The others, watching Earth from Other world.

His dad seeing him as he tried to get there in time. And failing. Had Goku watched him, the first time he'd fought the androids, seen his son get batted about and left to struggle in what remained of a city. Seeing him lose, to wake broken and to weep as he clutched his bleeding palms to his cheeks. Watched his only kid trying to plead with the machines, lost in panic and despair and without a shred of dignity while he spat up blood.

And had Piccolo…he couldn't think about Piccolo.

It was hard as always to fall asleep, just lying still was difficult now. This relative peace that Gohan could no longer stand, especially when he might see the moon coming through the window. Feel the tension in his spine, and not-remember his tail and what he'd done, and if it was possible to regrow his tail, could he, would that work, could that be worse than Earth being destroyed by a pair of machines that looked only a few years older than him.

Mornings were even worse here, this pale sun coming out, as they jammed their hands into their armpits and tried to get the fire going. At least there were trees here, and they had to egg each other on to eat. Enjoying what warmth they could find.

"We'll find it," Krillin promised. With dark-circles under his eyes, and the muscles all tense around his mouth. Gohan wondered with a start if he would look like that when he got older. If he looked like that _now_.

Eventually, even Krillin had stopped making jokes.

And he was the one to find the hole, just a dent in the mountain from a distance. "I think that might be it."

* * *

She dreamed of hospital rooms and of a broken ceiling with a hole in the center of it, covered over with thick sheets of sheeting._ Polyurethane_. The sheeting was a vacuole that loomed above and threatened with every gust of wind to lean down and eat her. A mouth that gapes. _Some_

_where _there was machine oil

_and _anesthetic burning her nose.

Her head was too heavy to move, and she didn't seem to have any _body_ attached. But how could she be alive if that was true. Her throat felt lined with sandpaper. Awareness. Black.

The voice in her head told her what was wrong, switching to its own life.

'Blood temperature low. Heartbeat low. '

Something, when she searched for what she was, informed her: One of Earth's Protectors.

Oh, that helps.

I must have…I hurt. Let her head roll to the side.

Anything else might be important. Even if she was just a _mission_.

All else in unnecessary. Nothing else matters not revenge

_revenge?_

nothing comes before helping save Earth. Not even her name. Obey.

Fine, fine. For now.

She opened her eyes.

White. Splatted of color around. A bed, she lies on a bed. This is her arm, that is her right leg.

"Um. _Juuhachigou_?

"_Eighteen_?"

She couldn't believe there was a second voice in the room. That anything existed anymore outside of her and her thoughts. What was left of her body jumped, scrambling, nothing but human instinct. Noise in the back of her throat. A vase nearby, empty, and miles away, a lurid red. Darker than the marks on her arms. Her arms, covered with half-healed scabs.

"Are you awake?"

* * *

It didn't feel as important as it was, to put the android on that table. To know that she was here, in this sanctuary that still stood despite the wreckage around it. Her, with moisture sliding off the yellow hair and wet clothes sagging.

At least those eyes were closed.

She might wake up, right now. No matter what Bulma said.

Alone together.

Krillin had to crouch there, remembering endless days and nights of meditation and didn't even know what he was doing now. Not looking into himself for guidance since he doubted he was capable of knowing what to do now.

_Praying_. To whom now that Kami was gone? For what, for time to reverse itself, back to before the others had been killed? All the way back to when Goku had been alive?

Seeing what was on his hands, of their hurt palms, feeling his back aching finally from the falls, feeling the slow deluge of pain as adrenaline ebbed.

Water everywhere, and he remembered Yamcha, who had grown up in the desert, and had died in this wet weather. Foggy, it had been foggy and grey. Alongside so many ruining buildings. He'd been a bandit, Bulma had told Krillin, and had tried to rob her and Goku. Just like all the others, he'd died trying to protect innocents. Sixty-one bodies alongside the remains of his friend that he'd known since he was thirteen.

And Tien, who had known all too well what he was to face and Chaotzu that refused to leave his side. How he'd taken Krillin's hand, ignoring the pleas. 'You've been a good friend.'

'Please don't go.'

'It's time.'

The small pale was smiling. 'Another time and place.' Something that still chilled and confused Krillin when he thought of it now.

Even as he huddled closer to a concrete wall that was all that was left of some building, wishing he could go with them. He could go with them, die together. One last fight together. Until their backs were gone and he could only stand there while sensing their ki, watching the sun rise and aware of how many people would never see this sight again.

His fellow Earthlings.

Men he'd sat around with during calm moments, had beers with during barbecues, and had watched die once before, just as helpless as he was now. No, now it was worse. There would be no Goku to come rescue them. No Namek to make things alright again. This world was dying.

And the cause lay there, as though asleep.

Did they sleep? Nap, maybe, like cats, yes. But did they dream? Were they capable of such? Even Vegeta had dreamed, and Bulma had told Krillin that there had been nightmares that wracked the Saiyan's head. Hadn't Goku also gotten some bad dreams when stricken with that virus? Did the androids ever close their eyes and drift off to a murky place where they could finally be vulnerable.

But she wasn't asleep, not now this android either way.

She was hidden away further, pushed past the human race. Even Krillin could have killed her by himself. Finally defeated an enemy. No, again, he could have stopped her permanently. In so many ways.

Suffocated, or blown up or strangled or something slowly, or why not try taking the needles there and filling them with anything and further push Juuhachigou from humanity? A nudge to see her from the shores of consciousness. Wasn't she already so far apart from everyone, the lack of ki that betrayed the fact that the androids weren't properly alive, the eyes as flat and disinterest as an animals, that they were not fully adults perhaps, but had not aged a day since he'd first seen them, floating above as he'd only seen warriors do, but these two could not be sensed so how…

'A gift from the Red Ribbon.' Said with a blown kiss and then a kick to the stomach that had blacked out everything, turned the lights off, and when he awoke—he wished he hadn't.

To go back to that time, and not wake up and be with Goku and soon, the rest of his friends. To die like a real fighter, a man, and not left behind like Gohan, like a child, to be slowly drained of life and find himself in a two-inch puddle and hoping that they would finish him this time. Let him drown.

Half of Earth's destroyer laid there before him in a cluttered lab underground, and though Krillin doesn't have a sword in his hand, there was also no Goku to insist on mercy.

Sleep and messy hair reduced the hollows and softened lines. She could have been a normal girl. Could have been anyone.

* * *

"We need to get our story straight."

"What story?"

"What the hell are we going to tell her, Krillin? Oh, there's a twin that looks exactly like you that went around terrorizing the planet, but it's okay because it's not really you? Oh, and you're a cyborg."

"She _did_ have a murderous twin." It hurt still, to prod at his teeth as his thoughts swirled. Bruised jaw, and soreness in his back that would remain for at least a week. But he could have clutched his swollen face and wept and laughed through his fingers, the spittle and tears cleaning off the dirt. He stood there, in this home that had withstood too much, a short man in ragged clothes looking like he'd crawled from the gutter he'd been living in for this past year.

"That's not good enough. We have to get pretty close to the truth."

"Okay, um. She has to know she's an android?"

"Definitely," Bulma said, so certain that Krillin nearly could wonder_ why_.

"So, how about we just tell her that she was once a killing machine bent on destroying the planet. But now she's good."

"Because we reprogrammed her? Yeah, that'll go over real well. Remember what she did to her first creator—I don't think the androids were lying about that. Or much of anything. She can't turn on us, Krillin. Next time, you might not be so quick with the remote."

"Okay, okay. We tell her she was an android, that she…was saved? From her brother?"

"Who also terrorized the planet. Good, good. Say she had a twin sister too, maybe?"

"And that she was identical. So it was the _other_ girl who blew everything up."

"That might complicate things. We need to keep this simple. Short and sweet."

"Like me?"

They both needed to laugh.

But neither could even smile.

Bulma touched him shoulder. It was good, to feel that, to remember he was still alive. She was simply relieved that this would end, in some way. Krillin was here, and he could always make a plan, and crack a joke. "We can't say that she used to destroy everything. She'll ask why she stopped."

"And we can't say that we stopped her."

"Not unless we can back up that threat. And we_ can't_."

"So, there were triplets?"

"A good, and a bad Juuhachigou? Why not?"

"Wait. But what are we going to say her name is? She's Juuhachigou, she might remember that. And everyone knows about 'Androids Number Eighteen and Seventeen.'"

"What if we say that she had a genuine change of heart, and her brother tried to attack her?"

"That might work. He shut her down. Erased her memory."

"And we tried to help!"

Had the situation been different, they might have high-fived. It was a good plan, not the best, but when you had decided to reprogram an android capable of murdering everyone on the planet, you were already screwed. It was just a matter of reducing the amount of damage, and knowing that you could walk it off.

On the ninth day, she still had not moved, but they had a plan in general order.

* * *

There was no one else that would do it, pick her up and move her around. Not that she was heavy in the least. But to approach someone they saw on the news destroying whole cities with a clown smile that set pales eyes above the sunken nose bridge, that took a courage that Krillin did not blame others for not having. Could not blame.

How he despised even touching her that first time, fingers bloody as he took a wrist to feel for a pulse.

How he had screamed, when seeing her for the first time, helpless and unable to not make a sound as he saw the blue eyes. _Mercy. Oh, no, mercy. _It seemed like with every drop falling onto her hair made his heart stop because it_ moved_ her.

But she had not risen with a sickeningly look that promised pain as she put together that Juunanagou was dead.

Even when a soft cold breeze swept by, possibly blowing dust into (yes, glassy) eyes did he understand what might have happened. Hadn't the male android's face gone blank, and his knees crumble, sending him falling to the earth? Krillin had only been focused on that dark-haired one, the one that had turned the slightest degree to perhaps notice him standing there. Had he seen what Krillin had been holding?

Realizing that surely she was alive, of course, nothing was that easy, the explosion had only taken out one of them, sent he and Gohan flying, sending her to tumble bonelessly through the air. In a way, she was very lucky that her neck didn't seem to be broken. Touching a too-small wrist, and feeling dread, and knowing what he had to do. The first step.

The first step that he couldn't entirely go through with. Not compassion, not when he could have gladly strangled her, put his hands around that neck and squeezed, but just hearing Gohan's weak cries, and not wanting this android to calmly go off into the Other world. Drift off. Peaceful.

Still coming to grips with the fact that he could feel his body, the worn lining in his boots his wet tongue in his mouth the roughness of his teeth clothes hanging off him how the rain was letting up. Breathe.

She didn't deserve such a thing, but anything else was out of the question. Impossible to put her on trial for her crimes. None of his enemies had ever been tried in that manner. Justice had been served through their deaths at the hands of Earth's defenders, usually by Goku. When, of course, they weren't being spared and finding a…

A different path.

Gohan was still calling out, saying his name, trying to find out if his friend was still alive.

"Gohan, Gohan, I'm okay. It's okay. We got them."

As terrible as the cries had been, hearing the crying. Desolate, even if it was from relief, keening and inarticulate for once in his life. Permanent and miserable; the sound of lamentation. So loud it was the only thing in this dead place, so much more than the rain. Gohan hadn't sounded like a child.

Holding this monster's wrist, hearing his best friend's son weeping, Krillin tried to remember the exact date Goku had died. It had been in summer, early summer.

Her mouth was closed, eyes open as he couldn't bear to touch her eyelids. Alive? Water falling into that face. Had Juunanagou been alive before that final blast? Did she need to breathe? Was she in pain? Krillin dearly hoped so. His enemy, helpless and defeated.

They could…after all this, they could rebuild. Permanently. With Piccolo dead, Kami and therefore the dragonball were gone, but maybe there was another way. A trip to Namek, again? Or was there a way for someone else to become the guardian, and resurrect the dragonballs? Perhaps that would be him, even. He had trained with Mister Popo and Kami, and had spent the years from five to thirteen preparing for monkhood. For good, things could return as they once were.

Feeling his split lip with a tongue, tasting rain and copper, as his hand went to her nose.

Flinching at the sensation of skin that felt human, almost absurdly, insanely, giggling at the fact that for the first time in years he was touching a woman (almost woman), and it was to kill her. Cold. Blank-eyed. Blank-faced. How long had it been since he'd even actually looked at either of the androids, right in their face, into their eyes. Pale and inhuman, unsettling in a way that now he understood: the irises were devoid of those lines that could be like flowers or feathers that were the different colors in normal people's eyes.

What are you?

She is powerful, I know that. Power and speed and cruelty. Devoid of mercy, but not without humor and taste, given how she complains of clothes, and remember, how she likes ransacking stores? And destroys the ones that don't have anything she likes? Why is that? Not just the way she ruins everything, but why does she care about clothes, and Juunanagou doesn't—didn't. Why choose to dress in those clothes, with the Red Ribbons on them, when you two claim to hate Gero?

Why do you care?

Why do you not care?

Powerful, too powerful. If you'd been weaker, we could have saved you. Stopped you, and turned you and even Juunanagou…

Now you're just lying here.

Like when Goku had died, either (both) times. All that will and energy, gone and moved past, out of this particular vessel, no matter how unfair that might be. Gone and empty, done as an spent battery and meant to be discarded.

That spill of pale hair, dirty with mud, getting wet and strands sticking to her forehead, how she would have hated that (vain) dust in her eyes though she did not blink.

Is there anything in there?

But, no, she isn't gone, not entirely.

The remote had disappeared from his hands, flown from his hands, but if he hit that button again, might Juuhachigou wake up. Kami, what if it had gone pin wheeling away, and landed on that button again, activating it. They would have died, and she would have continued murdering everyone on the planet. Just without Juunanagou.

Luck had been with both of them.

His hand still on her nose, without a struggle. Cowardly, yes. A brain working behind those dead eyes. Still alive, on some dim level. Comatose. Catatonic. Did she see him, was part of her in there, watching him and feeling his hand on her face? Did that part scream and rage, and_ fear_?

What if they left her there, to wither away and rust? Buried her, in a tomb no one would ever find or mourn at?

"Gohan? You okay, buddy?" Surprised himself by smiling, as the half-Saiyan crept closer. His poor face was gore covered it was hardly recognizable. But he was grinning back, no matter how it must have hurt him.

Alive, and going to be better. Everything was going to be better. Krillin could feel strength in his body again, a lightness that he hadn't felt for so long.

(years?)

She was just a machine.

Not a dragon, not anymore. A tool.

I sentence you to live.

His own grin was spreading, even as Gohan's seemed to slide off his face as he saw the fallen body. It was perfect, what they could do. To_ turn_ her, as they had their previous enemies. Oh, he had never known Gero, had never met him, but wished he knew the man's face just to picture it so horrified as his creation was yes,_ subverted_. It was right. Machines can be reprogrammed, can't they?

She could be our tool, our weapon, to fight any other enemies, and _to save and help_. The very things that she would hate, they would make her appreciate and protect. She'll use her powers for good.

What would be a better form of vengeance, to do away with all the old Juuhachigou and make anew an android that would fight with them? Of justice?

He saw the patches of grass that still remained, the dying fires, and it all looked almost beautiful and brave. Even after everything, these things all stood.

He was nearly hiccupping, sounding like the child he was. "Why is it still alive, Krillin?"

"I don't want to kill her."

"_What_?"

"I have a much better idea."

From the feel of warmth spreading over his chin, Krillin guessed that his lip's wound had gotten worse. "I want more than to just…Gohan, I want to completely undo everything Gero did."

Then he had carried her to Capsule Corp, he and Gohan practically weaving from exhaustion through the air. Every second wearing at him, the wet denim like some animal's fur, hair brushing against his arm and having to keep himself from dropping her a dozen times. Two dozen.

But Bulma had understood revenge better than anyone else left alive.

Now he was still carrying her around, disturbed and unsettled when she was undressed, and he had to remain in the room for Bulma's safety. Nearly covering his eyes, and wondering again and again if he were doing the right thing. One thing to sit in the rain and believe he could find something between murder, better than murder, but another thing to sit in this warm home of his friend with a mug of coffee, and not-seeing her clothes removed. Hearing Bulma cursing as she had to tug some of the fabric off, and nearly yanking the android off the table at one point.

It was beyond thinking 'how angry she would be to be treated this way,' but just thinking about how any person would feel to be treated like a mannequin. At least Bulma had covered her eyes, and eventually the rest of her with a sheet. The lab too, was sterile and cold, and nothing like any place he'd been before.

Safer to be around things unfamiliar.

To pretend he was someone else, and that android would be someone else to.

Bulma had understood too what his plan was. Quickly assessing things. "I think it's possible." Looking at Krillin as though he were a stranger.

To undo and recreate.

This person that he'd wanted to murder, not to just defeat but outright murder, to wrap his hands around her neck and strangle her, this rage that outraced his training and reduced martial arts to animals raging. Kicking and screaming and punches losing steam. Claws. Grabbing and yelling that she was a monster, a cry not to the machine that didn't care, but to the universe for allowing this to happen.

Saliva and blood exchanged over this past year. The blood from him of course. They had literally spat on each other, during one horrid fight. Nearly as intimate, fighting her as it had been with Frieza though no part of her body had ever actually been inside him. How awful, once he thought about it, the separation between trying to pleasure and trying to hurt someone. Especially when you were tangling with someone that looked female and had to make her little comments on her own prettiness and his noseless face though at least he was in good shape, woops, not anymore. Fought, and left him just unhurt enough to live. The way his ankle would ache in a way no aspirin would touch on a rainy day.

Once, she had knead him in the groin, then jumped back to watch Krillin vomit onto a road, on the broken white line that seemed very vivid even now. Crying and clutching himself while she laughed. Getting her entertainment while maybe watched him; he'd been in too much pain, bright spots in his closed eyes and sure that the world had ended. That white line that his spittle and the remains of a half-digested breakfast couldn't cover up, her laughter that had never ended and having to find his feet to walk away from all this when he could barely feel his legs.

Weeping only occasionally as the weeks streamed and slid into one another, and not just for the bodies that would litter the streets, but for himself. Left a gash across his forehead that had made a thin scar over his Orin temple marks. A ragged one on his jaw that nearly reached his cheek, from a toss into a building that Krillin could hardly remember. She had scarred him, physically, but that was the least of it.

'Cuuuuute. Aren't you just adorable.' Said right before punching him in the stomach. Said right as he'd been trying to look for survivors of their recent murder spree.

Things that annoyed him, and disgusted Juunanagou.

'Stop flirting and kill him already.'

'Shut up and let me have my fun!'

'What, like I don't let you spend two hours trying on clothes?'

''_Let_ me'?'

While Krillin would crawl away, hating them, glad that they had the attention span of gnats.

Rarely had he spent so much time in cities, aside from with an ex-girlfriend Krillin didn't want to think about. But there were holes to crawl into and hide, away from even other people where you could huddle with your knees pulled to your chest. See only windows devoid of glass, or look through those holes down to trace shapes in the cracked pavement. Wait until they were gone and you could tell yourself that you'd survived today.

She was the worst one, too. Not just the little jokes, but the brutal strength of her. Juunanagou was vicious, crueler even, but prone to letting others go just for a laugh. Juuhachigou was the 'perfectionist' and hated to miss. And she seemed to know where to stick the knife when it came to others, and given that she was the more 'social' of the two, probably had the higher body count, if only by a slim margin. Didn't she spent an awful amount of time in the malls, tracking others while sorting through clothes and annoyed when blood would splatter onto something she like?

'You completely ruined this vest, shrimp.' With her boot on his chin.

Spared him, and so in return, Krillin would let her live.

Let her learn guilt and empathy and find no peace in the world that she'd distorted.

The next step was when she fluttered open her eyes, and looked at him. For once, she didn't appear angry. Or happy or smug or vengeful. There was a simple blankness, of lack, and he knew that there was nothing there behind, inside, the flesh. No emotion, conscious or not. Juuhachigou just was, existed, and was in her own separate universe from all.

Then something flickered in undead eyes.

Shocked. Trying to understand what had happened, perhaps, please, let her not remember anything, please. It was not a face that was meant for confusion, or any real emotion anywhere. The muscles under there were dead, as dead as the people they would cross. Electricity move them, something that Krillin didn't understand even now.

A face that hadn't been meant for that expression.

Juuhachigou. Number Eighteen.

Scared. Of him.

"Who are you?"

Krillin had been all prepared with his lies for an angry, haughty android. Not one holding a blanket to her chest and trying to hide.

Good guys didn't scare women.

Another part of him, thought with a greedy coldness, 'good.'

H would be the spokesman, given that everyone trusted him; no one could think that round face was capable of lying apparently. "This is Bulma. Do you remember her, at all? Or me? I'm Krillin."

Nonsensical syllables that passed by too fast for her.

Could she even speak anymore? Hear? Understand any language? Bulma had talked about what she'd done, what had been removed, but they had no way until now to fully understand the consequences.

"Do you remember anything, at all? What you did?"

"_Did_?" That voice is not all that different. Perhaps more hushed and breathy, but that might have only been because of the tube that had been in her throat to make certain she did not die of starvation of thirst. But she didn't look like someone that had been unconscious for so long; already, the IV marks in the hollows of her arms were healing.

"To…"

"Your brother. Your twin brother." The blue-haired figure was stepping in front of her. "You don't remember killing him?"

Her swallow was so loud. "I killed someone?"

"You killed a lot of people."

"Who?"

Everyone.

"A lot of people," Krillin repeated. "You don't remember."

"No. Remember?"

"The bomb went off. That your brother had inside him, when you killed him."

"A bomb."

"You two are _androids._ Created by Doctor Gero, for the rebirth of the Red Ribbon Army. You're Android Number Eighteen. Juuhachigou. Does any of this ring a bell?"

"No. No, it doesn't."

"You received a lot of head trauma."

Then Juuhachigou touched the bandage on the side of her head, winced. Then Juuhachigou seemed to sink into the pillows. "Who _are_ you?"

"I guess we used to be enemies," he told her.

But what are we now?

He patted the spot besides her pillow, watching her eyelids creeping downward, like a sleepy child. "But we're taking care of you, so you get better."

After, after this, Krillin found himself wandered West City, flying upward above the clutter and garbage and rot that still littered the place. Looking for the tallest building to see the full extent of what they'd done to the most populated city left. The smoke was long gone, even if the scorch marks exist, so much has been destroyed in unnatural ways, has been broken and twisted from the force of them.

Them. The terror of them, that had driven humanity underground, to fight against each other for resources, that would have driven them to extinction, but slowly. How they had loved to take their time and watch everything burn around them. Dead, they were dead, and the one left might as well be,_ they_ would—

Painful, still capable of pain from the cyborgs or not or maybe it was still them hurting Krillin in whatever way, this scream and fire in his veins as he powers up, the cement crumbling under him, Gohan will sense and worry, he has to stop this, to lower his power or something terrible will happen

(a stroke _a heart attack_ will he follow Goku his heart)

Hi ki rising and he can't control it. Was this still his body, his voice that was screaming and had to be scaring others that might still be here, hear, to hear, he had heard her speak and knew that she was alive, none of this felt like it belonged to him anymore, this thing, _his heart_.

Found himself on his knees, the sun still there, unmoved, hands shaking before him. His scarred hands, too little for a man and a fighter, scuffed with the veins just barely poking up that lead to small wrists and then forearms that don't match. Mottled body, of bruises that are still healing and scars that won't and discolorations on the muscles that all his friends had and they had gotten such looks when they would go out.

They would do to her what she had done to this planet. Change and deform. He had heard her voice.

So he went back. Told Gohan that he was fine, and the boy, teenager, seemed to understand in his own way.

Bulma took in however he looked, of what felt like hollows beneath his eyes. So many times she had joked about his baby face, round cheeks and big eyes that hadn't changed much from when he'd been a kid. "We don't have to continue this."

"No. We do."

Juuhachigou was still out, still gone in whatever murk there was inside that head. Slipping in and out, trying to repair herself maybe, as he would come in wearing a worn blue jacket, too light for this weather, shivering in the steel and sterile lab. Watching this form, as the snow began to form. Then melt, and she would still sleep, higher now on the next floor in a real bed. Did she dream, or was it blackness when she drifted off? Krillin often wished for that himself.

The eyes that stared out from the caves of her socket, that responded to light now. "Can you hear me?"

Clutching the square forehead, as though she had a headache. "Yes, of course I can."

Whether she trusted them or not was not even a matter to think about, since there was no strength left in Juuhachigou. Even keeping awake was a struggle, and Krillin remembered Goku's last days, while he brought her glasses of water and straws. The bland words that now came back to his mouth, accursed. "I think you're getting better."

"Pretty soon you'll be running around again."

"The next surgery should help with that."

Until Juuhachigou was able to sit up and take note of her surroundings. To look him in the eye with eyes that could still blaze—no, that were alive as they'd never been when there had only been poison between them and Krillin had never known what her hair felt like against this arm. Outside, where there was real daylight and the hours of it grew longer and longer.

"Why are you even doing all this for me?"

"We couldn't just leave you there, you know."

There. Out there. With humans that might have murdered her outright, or she them.

How she watched him, almost tracing his features as she looked for something. A bedrock to cement her place in this world she didn't know. Looking to him, always, and never fully Bulma or Gohan because she _could _see what was there. "You want to kill me, don't you?"

Who, me, I'm not that kind of guy and blah blah blah. There are a hundred lies and glib remarks and silences that Krillin could give. "Sometimes."

She reminded him of himself. During the first days of it. When he could feel every death, never growing numb to it. The ki's dropping. Feel the death in every breathe, the ash sucked into his lung no matter how far away he was. When that was all he had been, and Krillin had wandered, as he once has as a teen, no longer a boy he'd thought. Clutching his head, existing only in this state of pain. There had been nothing outside it until—

He had just learned to live with it.

Just as she would her own pain and this life.

There had been little true joy in her previous life, if Krillin could make that call. So what now did it matter that there was a misery in how she was unable to focus on one thing, and might just sit there or wander the halls. On the bed, with knees drawn up and a pathos learned from something like a movie. If there must be a pit of nausea that spread further than the stomach, of lurid dread, then what of it. Who didn't feel that way, after what the androids had done.

Their fight-or-flight response was a mess, Bulma reported. Said while their new enemy, their latest win, was under, before Juuhachigou had even woken to try and talk.

The drill caked with blood.

The first time he threw up half-way through it. The second he makes it until the end before being sick. Now he watched all of it, stomach only twisted, twisting.

Bulma did not relish it, but didn't flinch either. Krillin didn't know to feel envious of her or not. She was glad to finally have one of _them_ at their mercy. Now she could actually help as she hadn't been able to on Namek. But the dark marks under her eyes were too large, and ultimately, he felt for her the same as he did for the rest of them: pity.

Later, when Juuhachigou has been patched up, they might speak of it. With glasses of alcohol that made him sick. Sicker. But he did want to drink, to empty bottles for the first time and not remember anything of today. Anything of any days that stretched back for too long.

"I thought there would be more mechanical parts. That's how I was even able to make that remote." Finally she was saying that word, the one that hadn't been mentioned since Juuhachigou had woken up.

"But they're not robots. They were human, once. The limbs are reinforced, and the spinal cords too. I thought they were…I thought there would be more. But there is more than just nerves and mechanics.

"It's something in the brain that makes them so strong," she whispered. Looking far off.

Itemizing, doing and inventory of what made her up. Even after she was conscious, and could make guesses about their work on her. The bomb Krillin himself had to handle, so small considering, and throw into the ocean far from any life. Then shiver even as down south spring began to make an appearance, watching it land on an iceberg, one amongst any. It had been so clear there, blue and lifeless. Clean. He could have spent a long time there, losing his attention in the soft shift of waves, until he no longer noticed his breathe pluming and the way his teeth chattered.

Maybe he could go back there, one day, to meditate and avoid the destruction that otherwise cluttered the planet. When they were done.

Back to fighting their own kind. It had been years since any Earthling had been any danger to this planet. Not since the Red Ribbon Army, maybe, and that was fitting. 'The Red Ribbon sends their regards,' the first and only indication that they cared a wit for anything Gero wanted. Mentioned shortly before revealing who they were, what they were, and what they'd been created for. 'Not that Gero got to see any of this.' What type of monster killed their own inventors?

They weren't like their other enemies.

Frieza had demanded order, laws that were determined by himself, but for a purpose, if a grim one. A _business_, if one of genocide and slavery. Goku had even told the others of Frieza offering him a job, and they had all laughed, even Chi-Chi. 'Your first and only job offer.'

The Red Ribbon army that had been Gero's creation before these two had been to control, and those outside itself were meant to join with them.

Vegeta, and Nappa, had ruined worlds, but on orders and in exchange for gain, and to make themselves stronger.

Anything they hadn't been able to use for themselves had been destroyed. Nothing could exist for the sake of itself. It wasn't childish; even Trunks, who enjoyed knocking over blocks, never had any malice. Their curiosity only extended so far as what they could derive from something.

A car could be used to race around in, running others down, and what it was unable to go on, they discarded it and moved onto another thing.

Their power was supposedly infinite. Unchanging.

Which Bulma quickly took care of. Held the small device that apparently supplied such a loop of energy that was reused rather than dissipated, sneering at the blood-soaked thing that Krillin had no wanted to stare at. Their true enemy, perhaps.

Or one of them, when Bulma reported on the programming database that she'd wiped clean of all mentions of them. Grim, this woman above stained gloves, who Krillin had to stand beside to make sure the scalpel never nicked anything unnecessary. Together, the human had learned more about Juuhachigou than she knew about herself now.

They were all dictators, and feared that one might rise up and defeat them. Had created their own worst enemies. Funny, considering how they'd let Krillin and Gohan live for so long just out of boredom.

For that, for the others, Krillin wanted her to live. He wanted the other android to see this, and seethe.

But they had once been human, Bulma said. Hissed. Hated, hating someone that wasn't here anymore. They had been normal people, and under their—the fighters-protection then. More than once, they had inadvertently, unknowingly, had saved the twins when they had saved the planet from its attackers. Until Gero had gotten them and twisted anything cruel in them, if not programmed their psychopathic tendencies, and made them cyborgs and murderers.

All that they'd done, and lived through, for little as the last place they would have looked for a fight bore their worst enemy.

Piccolo had of course died with his head held high. Baring fangs and his cape flapping. A demon maybe, but one they'd all trusted and Gohan had never been the same since finding him-would never be the same. A demon they'd once feared. A hero.

Vegeta had died a hero too, though he would have sneered at such a title. A warrior then, if only to spare the Saiyan Prince's feelings in Krillin's head. Fearless, laughing at them and mocking their existence with cracks of wires and of being a toaster, as that was the fighters only way of beating them. Alive, no matter what they did to him or how his ki had faltered. Perhaps not locked in his own hell. Mourning, capable of mourning and fighting for others, Krillin liked to believe. He had died on the outskirts of a town, far from Capsule Corp, leading the cyborgs away.

Yamcha had died with so many others he'd been trying to save. The android had been cowards with him, this Earthling; they had snuck up on him at the end. How Krillin had screamed at them for that, for being so pathetic as to not even face Yamcha in a proper battle, and then he'd known that yes, the androids could mock human customs, life and death, but in the end were afraid. A thing that blossoms, and was the second sun, a new moon, in Krillin's mind. It didn't matter how they beat him, what new shape they beat him into. He could focus on this truth as he swallowed blood back down and looked towards the darkening sky. All dictators feared and created their own worst enemies. It was something he told Gohan, clutching the boy's arm, while being lifted and carried away. 'It doesn't matter. They'll never really win.'

'What?'

'No matter who they kill, they're still afraid and miserable. They'll never be happy.' No friends, no one to mourn or miss them or them someone else, no loved one, no love. Others would die, but what_ life_ did these two have?

Tien had understood better, better than Yamcha who saw and felt only death, and Gohan with the furrows in his brow and tendency to bite his lip that Krillin recognized coming from himself. The closest thing he'd have to a son, something that Yamcha _would_ have understood better than Tien. But Tien had accepted death, had thought of it as the next phase. Maybe because he'd been an assassin or having died or something inherent, something from when Tien had been a child that let him find peace. Chaotzu had been the same, brave and unflinching, together, and determined to die in battle fighting for others and alongside each other.

These people, enemies once, now in Otherworld alongside Goku. Training together and maybe okay with their lot.

Krillin didn't want to remember what exactly had been done to them. The wounds and blood and bones. How he knew which one had killed by which android by how long the fighters had suffered.

These things that he knows that won't leave. It would be a betrayal, no matter how much Krillin wants otherwise, to not know about blood and the secret of what was under skin and another truth, this one of the flesh: it didn't matter how strong you were. In the Earthly word decay will win. Thankful for not having a nose, but he still had eyes, could still hear the flies.

He had wept for all of them.

Men he should have died alongside of, but would have to live to make sure their memory wasn't forgotten. Honor them whatever way he could.

They all still seemed so closer. All but Goku.

Goku was further away than the rest. They'd had so long to come to grips with his death, to try to come to terms with the gap his death had left. He had slipped away, and was so far away, had drifted away like an astronaut with a cut chord. The tall man, Saiyan, had always been there, but Krillin had grown to only half-expect him to be there when he turned around, even when he'd been alive. He had been meant for a stranger life, not for watching TV and cleaning fish, and even if his death had been so unexpected, him leaving them all behind was not.

'We came for Goku.' A hand flicking back hair. 'But Gero was a little too late.'

Krillin no longer had to fight.

No matter what his gut told him when he saw her.

No matter of the rage that curls in his stomach.

You couldn't hate someone without hurting yourself, a double-edged sword. It would cut you just as deeply, a mantra that Krillin repeated as he learned again the fact of what was beneath the skin, the myriad colors and shapes that had been designed by nature after all. With tears blurring his vision and all he can hear are monitors of the machines and want to take it back, all of it, please.

The only people that wanted to kill her more, and were around, were Gohan and Bulma. And Chi-Chi, who claimed not to have lost any members of her family to the monsters yet, but had wept soundless, wordless, at hearing of Piccolo's death. Because wasn't the Namek in the family pictures, grimace or blank stares or not? Skulking and making them laugh to see him there. Pictures that no one could look at for too long, although sometimes Krillin would pull out the family albums or look in his own clippings of tournaments and bindings of loose pictures.

He didn't want to forget them, and Trunks would have to be taught who these people were.

Every day another climb up the mountain, to a peak that couldn't be reached, and wouldn't it be easier to just let your grip loosen. Awaken, curled, and pull yourself up from the sweat-soaked sheets, think on the month that it was, tell yourself that they were gone, dead or changed. It was done. Loosen the grip on his throat and get up to swim and shower and ignore his face in the mirror. Wake up and don't ask why.

But he woke up, and went to Capsule Corp like it was a job. Because he had _decided_, and now had to take responsibility. Every day, he decided again and again. In his arrogance, he had seen fit to spare her, as though he had any right to play any god, to act like she were his to command and shape.

But there was no one to step in and stop him; not even Gohan could put the brakes on, not with Bulma and_ her_ presence, of fingers, a trembling lower lip. Wanting relief as another tremor tried to shake her apart at the seams. Her head was a house where the furniture had been rearranged. Pupils so wide. Head trauma from finally getting into a row with her twin, and she seemed to understand that it would have come to that point after watching them, trying to comprehend that was her in that skirt and her flesh and blood there besides her.

He had known that it might be like this, hadn't he? What they would do to her, and Krillin had even relished it. They would remove what made her tick, and then reset her like a clock. An assault, something more intimate than any attack, a spiritual rape. These things that he'd become, that were further settled into his mind, of blood and the gleam of things harder than steel. It would have been kinder to go to her while she slept, and cut the tether that kept her in this world. But it was too late.

If a person wasn't dead, did that mean they were alive?

Krillin would wake up and try to find clothes to wear besides his gi, as he had turned in his cape for the role of a nurse for. Helping her up, changing the sheets on her bed, having to deal with her weight against him while he led her around, the sight of her pale legs through the hospital gown that she hated. Unsettling. Things that made part of his brain slow down. Even fluffing her pillows and bringing her dinner. Trying to pretend that she was a patient like the others he brought in, though there were fewer and fewer that needed him.

But she was sitting up and sleeping more normal hours, and there was little to further remove inside her. Or at least, things that weren't supposed to be there, given how Bulma would take of nanobites and things Krillin didn't understand, but did get the talk of certain organs. Whispering to herself, 'I wonder why Gero left her ovaries and uterus in.' Things that he would rather not know about at all.

But she wanted to _talk_.

"Did I want to stop?"

That cold part of him took in the scene. Yes, this would be the attempt at securing his sympathy. A pretty girl looking depressed. Her curled up on her side, him unable to see her face. Was she capable of biding her time until an attack? If she tried, Krillin and Bulma would probably die, but Gohan was still out there, wary and watching as their new protector.

Rotting ice under him. Trying to not reach for the button to call Bulma or Gohan, to not ignore her. "I don't know. Maybe. You never seemed to like it as much as he did. You weren't as…cruel about it. I think you just got bored."

"'Bored'?"

"You ran out of a real challenge and wanted to stop." Feeling sweat on his neck.

"I'm not an idiot."

"No one thinks you are." Something all too true.

"I see how they all treat me. Even the child is afraid of me." There was a smile on her face that didn't touch her eyes. "And you, Krillin. You're a little better at hiding your fear, but I still see when you flinch away."

His name, of course she knew his name. He could feel his own lips, the muscles of his mouth, all cold. "Do I?"

"Less. What, should I thank you for that?"

Juuhachigou was looking at his face, while he saw only her hands. These fingers that had blasted out the ki to destroy his friends. They were so limp and there across that span. Krillin hadn't held anyone's hand since when he'd told Bulma about Vegeta's death. Confirmed that he was gone, as though she didn't know, no matter what she said. Weren't they like any other couple with their own secret language and bond, no matter if Bulma had felt the moment when he'd died.

"Maybe _I should_ thankful." But she was already cycling back into solipsism and pain of her own existence. Self-pitying and how that made Krillin want to shake her. To reduce that expression.

Bulma wouldn't eat near Juuhachigou, and even Gohan lost his appetite around her. Couldn't say that it was impossible to not stand the thought of her eating alone, lie about her possibly plotting in her loneliness, there were too many lies already, but Krillin would sit with her at that small table. Eating food for an invalid, made so carefully by Mrs. Briefs, who didn't discriminate. Comforting, to be around the older woman who commented on how skinny they all were, and kept pushing donuts onto Juuhachigou.

She might have lost her sense of identity, but not her sarcasm and still knew where to drive the emotional knives. "Are you my wet nurse now?"

"Oh, knock it off." Unable to help himself. "Crackers?"

How she snorts. Could two enemies talk over a meal and smile, only one reluctant? Wasn't it better to be polite, regardless?

There are flashes, when he saw. When he began to hear again, again as that had also left his life, dripped out like a bag with a hole in it. Sometimes, he even noticed what is before him and can taste it again and remembered that he didn't like coffee much. Monosyllables, too many of them, they stack up, they grow. Unimportant, but they exist. Between them, they exist.

There was a sense of humor in there. One that found things other than snapping someone's spine and looking into their eyes as they understood what had happened to them amusing. A strange look on that face that Krillin had to relearn and acquaint himself with.

Perhaps talking about something in a book, an idea or theme, or maybe he would find a movie, harmless and dumb. Come in with dust on frayed cuffs of his clothes again, like the old days, and explain that he had been helping rebuild. She would even want to hear banalities about building construction than be stuck inside her own head.

Hunger. For speech and experiences and to soak in what was outside of herself.

Juuhachigou _wanted_ to talk, and Krillin had once spotted her petting a cat, speaking in a low monotone about how it hopefully didn't have fleas and that no, she didn't have any food for it. A flaxen-haired ghost that liked to hear him talk about old tournaments that hurt a little less to think about now. Feet on a chair, back curled into another, complaining about the movie that had been all but stuck in the machine. "Please, if you make me watch that crap again, I'll claw my own eyes out."

A thing that almost made him choke on his soup, remembering that. Remembering too much. Sometimes, Juuhachigou was the lucky one.

"Alright. We can skip the movie."

"But then what will I look at? Your face?"

Something that did make Krillin grow a lopsided smile. "Okay, maybe a different movie?"

If Juuhachigou didn't appreciate in some way the company, she would have yelled at him to leave. Like when she was changing clothes, a sight neither wanted him to see. No more than she wanted him to see when she was sick and needed help to the bathroom or for him to put the bucket in her arms. When Bulma did this, had done this, either Yamcha or Krillin had held her hair back, but he didn't dare touch Juuhachigou at this moment.

Every day, he would be there to watch her, to practically memorize the individual strands of pin straight hair. To return from working around West City to sit here, dirty, and have Juuhachigou bug him about her outfits and if someone could at least bring her some _real_ clothes. Or better yet, could she go _shopping _now that she was no longer a homicidal robot and would be a good girl from now on?

"Or do I have to perform some charity work? Because I will, if it gets me out of here. I could go with you, to help with the construction. Really, I don't care, Krillin."

"Are you sure you're strong enough for that?"

Rolling her eyes. "I just want to remember _sunlight._ Does that still exist?"

"Oh, I think we can find some. Do you want me to get the wheelchair?"

A pink flush. But her voice was what made Krillin step back as she hissed, "_Shut up_."

Then he waited, feeling every particle in the air, the glint of her dark eyelashes under the lights, and the jut of a rounded chin. Then he noticed the walls, the light paint, the empty flower vase and the pillow and bed and small stack of books on that tiny table. A stain where they ate. A crack in the tile by the door.

"I'm—just knock it off. You know I hate that. Please." The word nearly caught in her throat, and Juuhachigou couldn't quite make eye contact. "Please don't _leave_."

"I wouldn't leave. Maybe play those monster truck races in a loop, but I won't go."

"Don't even dare." She flipped some loose hairs away from her face. "Now can we go out or something?"

Ignoring each other's relief.

There was a window not far from the stairs, and that appeased Juuhachigou for now. "I still want to leave. Eventually, I am going to, aren't I?"

A weighing glance. "Wasn't that what you reprogrammed me for, so I could go outside and help people?"

But she had seen enough of his face, and turned her attention to what she could see of the world beyond Capsule Corp. Bare arms exposed in the sun, devoid of even tiny hairs, as she sat there, him having pulled open the blinds, eyes closed and savoring such a little thing. Looking alive and perfect under that light, glowing, and Krillin has to be poked by a firm finger and told to stop staring. Face leaning forward, to have its forehead touch the glass, looking at him, hardly looking up. Too large ice-blue eyes, playing coy. "You're such a dork."

Playing.

God. How many times had she said stuff like that—too many, and all untrue after less than thirty seconds after their first meeting. "No, I was just—it wasn't like that."

But everything still distorted when he came back for night and heard her calling his name.

Like a puppy, Krillin would come running, and then hate himself for this tightness in his chest that wasn't fear. Hating when she laughed at him and how she would sit there, waiting for him. Hating the further surgeries that left Juuhachigou so diminished.

It made it so much hard to actively hate her. His muscles began to relax around her, and the time when he could have watched every move had long since passed. When she asked, politely for once, too weak to argue, for something to read. Anything to keep her mind off her itching wounds. Awkwardly trying to hold the book or magazine, all scanned and found to be devoid of all mentions of the androids, clutched in weak hands. Sometimes, Krillin would read to her until she found the strength to cover her head with a pillow.

When he brought movies from Capsule Corp's library and Kame House, scanned to be free of porn and destruction, and they'd watch them until it had to be nightfall, falling asleep in their seats, and him waking up to the smell of French toast and dark roast coffee, and learning that Juuhachigou drooled and talked in her sleep. Krillin, leaving before she had the chance to notice him still there.

When Krillin caught her in another room after a panicked horrible moment, with Juuhachigou simply looking out of a window. Annoyed at his surprise. 'I just wanted to see what time it was.' And he had wanted to take her outside, onto Capsule Corp's grounds, to teach her to play golf that he wasn't so great at, and have her feed the dinosaurs. Smell what browning flowers were left and see the leaves falling off the trees. Settled instead for a gift of a clock.

But she does say 'thank you.'

The way she might stare at him, from her place on the bed, weak, eyes nearly rolling in sweaty sockets.

"What's wrong?"

"What isn't?"

She looked like a girl, not even fully a woman at times, and that might be the start of the problem. Juuhachigou had once been a normal child, years and years ago. He could mourn that person. A baby with a mother and father, just like Krillin had once had. But she had been born along a brother, had a childhood unimaginable, had grown up to be Gero's monster. Perhaps they had some distant relation with him; Bulma had shown him pictures of Gero and there might have been resemblance through the eyes and chin. A blue-eyed woman that had been created through natural biological means and born in a hospital like this.

Regressing, going back to some state before Gero.

Was this torture? For her? Not only the removal of her memory, if not entirely her personality, but what was a person if not what they'd experienced? An empty vessel that had to be filled, rebuilt and taught not for Earth, but for her—just not with things like hobbies, like knitting since she hated that. Books and drama on the television and moody art films that none of them could figure out.

There was a certain tilt to her form, when she stood drinking coffee and resting her weight on one leg, the swing of one hip when she walked. She watched Trunks on the slide outside, and would smile when he'd go back it backwards. Legs maybe swinging when he'd helped her onto the surgical table, after he'd had to help her up though she had no problem slipping off it.

"How can you stand to be around her, Krillin?" A grimace on that face. Now, Krillin nearly had to look _up _to see him. He would be as tall as Goku, one day. One day that would happen now.

"I just know that I have to. Someone has to watch her."

Act like a martyr. The new guardian to Earth and what he did actually mattered.

It wasn't so bad. Compared to fighting her, what was eating with her.

"I _am_ sick. Why don't you just hand feed me?"

Juuhachigou had been in that bed for too long, as Krillin never would have thrown a grape at her face. There would have been a ki blast or a punch to his skull rather than her throwing that grape right back at him. Neither laughing, and kidding like this were all normal, but both of them watching one another like they hadn't before. He could have smiled.

But he was a better liar than he'd thought.

A fact that almost faltered when the moment came. The point where she was wearing a t-shirt and pants that he'd brought but she'd put on herself, and again wanted to know what she'd already heard and knew. "How many people did I kill?"

"You and your brother? A lot. Billions, maybe." Dead if not from the actual murderous rampages, than from infrastructure crumbling and those starving, especially children—but none of that could be thought of right now. Use the circuit breaker and reset everything. For your own sake, before the rage ended this game, because Krillin was so afraid of the end of this line. If she died anyway, after all this, what did that make him?

"No wonder you're doing all this." Feeling along the bed, finding seams in the sheets. In a plain white shirt and jeans tugged on with a struggle he'd heard ever from the hallway. "Didn't you say there was a way to undo all those deaths?"

"The dragonballs are gone."

"But you used them to bring back all the others. They actually brought the dead back."

"We used to."

"You said that you were trained to be a monk. A Buddhist monk? Doesn't that—isn't that something against some doctrine you have?"

Having a theological debate with an android of all things. Of all things to discuss with Juuhachigou. Why would she care about something like that, rather than just dismiss the entire—she had remembered his glib response to her asking about some of his scars? Why would Juuhachigou bother to keep that fact in her head? Or was she watching to catch them out in a lie?

Juuhachigou was rubbing at her right arm, above the elbow. "Isn't that what you said? Or are you not a Buddhist anymore?"

"I don't know," What did he know of Noble Truths and honesty and ethics? Of karma? How could someone still believe in the rebirth, when he knew it was to be true and no longer a matter of _faith_? But Krillin still did know of_ tanha _and _dukkha _still.

"What do you believe in?"

"Hey, I've died. I know what happens."

"What? What happens?"

I could show you. I could-

"I'll tell you about it later. Why think too much about it anyway?"

"You were in Hell, weren't you?" When she smiled, it creased the corners of her eyes. "You can tell me."

Impossible not to smile at her if only a little, and wish he had thought to shave that morning.

Especially when she went on, making a deal of him looking so slopping. "Even your shoes are a mess. _I_ can't leave; what's your excuse?"

Krillin didn't bother to go home that night, or to search Capsule Corp for a distraction or to sit in the kitchen emptying their store of tea until it hurt to keep his eyes open and his face hung around his collarbone. But he couldn't fall asleep after all, too comfortable in these sheets, and his stomach alternatively burning and freezing when telling himself that she was in this building too, still, of course she was. But there were new layers that he didn't dare begin poking into. Not even to ask why they were there were there, half-built but existing as they shouldn't have.

He wouldn't focus on it. But still couldn't sleep.

There was a migraine throbbing behind his eyes when he went back to her.

"I want to show you something."

She didn't need to be asked twice.

Hopping into her boots, and throwing on a light jacket with a hood. Eyes all bright as she prodded him with questions. "What? Where are we going? It's a little early to go shopping, isn't it? Or to see a movie? Or do _anything_?"

He didn't bother with the car, even if it might have been easier, safer. Too slow, when what he needed was a jolt. No one stopped him from bringing her outside, and she gave a long sigh, stretching in the morning air. Almost chilly, but never mind that. Or how she protested when he scooped her up. "I told you, I have to show you something."

She weighed less than him. He hadn't been this close to her since the night he'd brought her to Capsule Corp for the first time.

Juuhachigou could have snapped his neck. Not flinched every time she looked down, and told him repeatedly to slow down right now, Krillin, I mean it, stop joking around. Even when he put her down, finally, the android had to lean against him and regain her balance, and tell him to stop smirking you asshole, my arm already hurt before this.

Then she turned around to see where he'd brought her.

The water pipes had burst or being destroyed during a fight, and the rising sun gleamed gold on the water that had spread making this artificial pond amidst all the concrete. Had he been here before? After enough time, all the ruined buildings looked the same. Still, from this view you could take in the surrounding area for acres and acres, and who knew how good Juuhachigou's vision was. At least here there were no bodies. Either people had gotten away in time, or they had been buried. The wind howling through the cracked streets like a dog. Like the sirens that had used to scream for everyone to run and hide, and how the androids had hated those and would go out of their way to destroy them.

There was a heat-craze in his head, throbbing as he took in her face. "You and Juunanagou did this. For a while."

"Shut up," she choked. "Can't you just shut up."

Her eyes that blue, so wide and shadowed by dark eyelashes. Over the sharp nose and smug mouth. Dumbfounded as she truly saw something realer than the grainy recordings or stories on the radio. Never looked at her for so long while she was awake. His stomach plunging when he was consciously recalling the suddenly new fact of her

prettiness

_her_

The physical mold of her how and feeling still warmed from her body. She was pretty, though, it had to be said no matter how grudging. As though she had ever let anyone not know about that facet of her. Her arms hung by her side, and maybe it was too much sensory input after so long of staring at walls and the faces of those that hated her.

"Why didn't you kill me? Why don't you let them kill me?"

She was looking directly downward, at what was left of the street.

And Krillin knew exactly what she was thinking, but also knew how futile that would have been. He almost touched her shoulder. "It would be a long way down."

But it wouldn't, not really.

The wind nearly ate her words. "I guess dying more than once would give you a different perspective."

Because there is something after this life, but Juuhachigou, you may not want it.

"I want to go back now. Can we go back." Arms wrapped around herself, looking away from him, from everything. Wincing, and finding a pained nerve in that arm. He wanted to grab her and force her to look, to understand why they all feared her and still wished for her to not wake up. Look at it.

"I just wanted you to see."

"I get it." Eyes closed, finally. "Krillin. I get it. Can we go?"

And he could have shoved her. Time enough to hear her scream. Then he would stand here with his palms drying, shaking, and if she lived, survived? He would have to finish her off, and then go to Capsule Corp, and tell that that he'd done it finally, and there would no longer be her presence and the lies to live with. End the nightmares of him finding her in the hallway, in the lab, outside in the rain, holding the severed heads of his friends that still leaked black blood.

Or Krillin could skip that, and murder her right here. Fire a powerful enough blast to set off that bomb. In her weakened state, that might be possible. If she took him along with her, then so be it. That was nothing more than he'd expected, and at least it would be an end, finally.

That white neck he believe he could wrap his fingers around and squeeze. She wasn't so strong anymore, not now. Would she fight back, this person that couldn't stand to see what she was responsible for, or simply allow him to end her. End her own suffering so she'd never worry about what she'd done, about any of the tiny problems or worries about clothes or her hair. Send her to the next world, where she might or might not find redemption, but would be out of his life.

But she was awake now, and would look at him. See him.

See him and his crime.

Didn't everyone tell him constantly that he was a loyal? Wasn't that the bedrock of his personality? His soul? He could kill and wish for death, could want and lust and turn his back on what he'd been taught as a boy, but not hurt his friends. Could not betray them. New or old.

What was Juuhachigou, if not his friend? Who had trusted him not to poison her or even drop her when they'd flown. That stood there, waiting for him, for him to mete out justice or to help her just as when she'd first tried walking and her knees had buckled for Krillin to catch her and maybe that was why she had left the house with him.

It slid into his bones and weakens them, crushes his self-control and lies that he told himself. The simplicity and truth is so dumb and easy: Juuhachigou was maybe a friend. Becoming his friend.

This person that stood there, draped in growing sunlight that makes her squint when she finally looked at him.

"Let's go back then."

She wanted to say something, but caught herself. A complaint, a question, another want that he didn't know how to fix?

"What?"

"I wouldn't mind learning how to fly," she offered, leaning back. Rocking back and forth on her heels and looking back towards the ground.

"I could teach you."

"Would you?"

"Later. We should get back before the others start to worry."

"That I killed you?"

The leash they didn't dare try to use was in the lab, tucked away and did she have any clue, any suspicious to its existence?

The blonde hair was tumbling into her eyes from the breeze, but she didn't bother to tuck it away.

Not until Krillin shrugged. "Or that I finally took you to the mall."

"What would be so bad about that?"

"Well, considering Bulma gave me this credit card through Capsule Corp…"

"Oh, is that right? And you've been holding out on me? C'mon. We could at least buy you some new clothes."

He left almost strong, picking her up and making her yelp in shock. "What's wrong with these?"

"They're a mess." Juuhachigou was still squirming, and he could feel the thin cotton of her coat and the soft worn denim. "Really, how come all your clothes are so…"

"What?"

"Tacky? But I guess that does fit you."

"Hey, you sure you should insult me when I'm carrying you this high up? Although, that's basically how I learned to fly." He found a laugh in him. "Chaotzu took me to this hill, and then he used his powers to shove me off."

"Did you hit your head? That would explain some things." She pulled a loose thread from his shirt, determined not to look at the small shapes of the buildings below.

"It wasn't that big a hill, at least. But he didn't even seem to get why I was so angry. And of course I didn't get it the first time. It must have taken fifty times before I got it."

Her smile was thin. "That I would have liked to see."

"I bet. But then who would take you to buy a heavier jacket for winter?"

How she lit up. Looking like anyone else but an android that had killed so many due to programming. "Finally."

"Just a jacket."

"Oh, we'll see."

Over the phone, one eye on Juuhachigou who stared right back impatiently, and was already about to set off for the fifth store. Here, she was just another shopper waiting by a bench and a plastic fond. He held up a hand, trying to explain to a dull-sounding Bulma what had happened. "I just thought it would be good, for her to see what happened. Sort of. What she did?"

"Did it have any effect?"

Krillin looked at the graffiti traced into the public telephone kiosk. The numbers and insults that had withstood this entire structure being bombed. Or were they new? "I think so."

"I guess it's best she know the full extent of what she did. Not that she ever really will, since it's not like she had to live _through_ it."

His fingers found their way onto his shadow of hair. Searching for the round scars and the long one on his forehead. "She's been having trouble using her right arm."

Bulma made it seem like he'd begun to speak another language. "So? So what?"

"I just thought—I guess I thought you should know."

"To fix her?"

"Maybe?"

"Why would I 'fix her'? I don't want her to get better. Stop acting like her babysitter."

Like they hadn't all but begged him to be the one to talk to her, care for her, change bandages. Talk to her, every day. Every day remember what she was and what she did and have to how she felt and pretend that she too was a victim and had redeemed herself. That it wasn't his fault that she were here. Tell him it wasn't his fault that she stood right there behind him.

"Just bring her back here, Krillin."

"I will."

But not until noon, when they were both getting tired of dragging around bags. When Krillin was tired of swiping that card and feeling satisfaction over the bill. At least Juuhachigou appreciated that he was there-No. Just hit the circuit breaker and forget about it.

About her asking how she looked, when she stood on something inside the dressing room to peek over the white door to make sure he was still there. "Okay? What about this?"

"Oh, sure, it matches your eyes."

Her quick glance at him, how her shoulders went up. "Does it?"

He didn't want to talk to Bulma when they got back, to see more than hear her disgust because he'd pampered and exposed her to others, what had he been thinking. But even Krillin could get sick of this house and of the same background behind her face constantly. At least now Juuhachigou was appeased. And wasn't it best to remind her of humanity, of her own humanity and how she was connected to others? Making her an Other would only worsen things, and perhaps make her wonder why she didn't just kill them all and leave. Why stop just because her brother was dead?

Krillin brought the dishes upstairs, cleaning them while his head went elsewhere. Finding the pain in his head subsiding without an aspirin. Easing away entirely while volunteering to help Missus Briefs to scrape up the leaves falling from the trees in the back. Nice to feel the still-warm air against your skin.

He was afraid of her still. Still feared for what she might do to others, and especially to Bulma and the baby. To Gohan. To himself. She was still capable of mass murder, and always would be. That was just a fact to her, a part like her voice, her quick small smile, her yellow-gold hair and those pale eyes and the way she looked when caught out like when he found her tossing pretzels at Doctor Briefs sleeping form alongside Trunks, who had immediately demanded with all the patience of a toddler to know why she'd stopped.

He didn't notice he was smiling until Bulma's mother commented on how nice it was to see him happy again.

* * *

The worst part wasn't just that she still breathed. That she still walked and spoke and could and would laugh.

She had not wanted to wake, any more than she'd wanted to sleep, Bulma remembered that. And the sore back, tired from holding Trunks all night. It had been a spectacular sunrise. Everything had glowed red and orange, turning Trunks' fine hair a spun gold. Stupid to have spent the night here, camping and waiting with the others for news as though this were just another adventure. And she had known.

How long had she hated herself for falling asleep, as Vegeta had no doubt planned.

_If I'd had coffee. _

No, you coward, you will not lie to yourself about that. Who was she kidding, even now, while Trunks began to walk and laugh and would soon ask questions. If I'd had more hope. If I'd had more faith, might he have stayed. Swallowed his pride and stayed for her, for their sake.

Now she couldn't sleep.

But she had woken up, and had a purpose, that she fulfilled as fervently as she had the dragonballs. But even after what she' been through for those, none of it compared to that search.

They had not buried their fellow fighters. Like lots of others now, like they'd used to do, they burned their dead. Human or alien. It seemed more respectful, and it was less terrible to imagine them under ground, in the cold ground, with the worms eating them. Less terrible, to use fire, to take gasoline from the nearest gas station left standing, and to cover them, to soak them in it, bodies of men she'd love, and some she'd barely known. The smoke had been so greasy.

Sometimes, in the lab, in the _kitchen_, she can smell it again.

Vegeta had let her lean on him, during Sons' funeral. But there hadn't been anyone there to hold her during his wake. His, and the other's funeral, really. They had died to quickly, one after another. Like it was another race.

No coffins to lower, to grab a handful of dirt and toss down. Feeling alone, utterly, even as her mother and even her father, who had come out of his lab for once, were actually crying. Chi-Chi there, held up with some strength that Bulma couldn't find in herself, not even for Trunks, maybe because she had been a fighter too, or had lost her own spouse twice before. Her touch had been dry, steely, and Bulma wished she could be like that now.

Not wail inside like she was twelve again and unable to just leave her house, it's not fair.

But she had wanted someone to hug her, a man there, someone that wasn't a mother and couldn't understand. So that she could have that much. Crumbling, that's what was happening, her sanity or spirit or whatever was the difference, and still unable to cry as the others were. Gohan, practically balled up, wearing an old stained gi that needed to be changed. Needing a haircut and to wash his face.

And who had been there to grab her and sit her down on the couch as they all dealt with the news, the new truth, and had taken Trunks and set him down for her?

A man, though she had often ridiculed and insulted him, called him every name in the book since they'd met as kids. 'You may not know it now, but it'll get better, Bulma.' Short, needing a shave and a change of clothes too, but alive. Despite his terrible luck, alive. He was what, a few year younger than her, and she hoped she didn't look as bad as he did right now. Exhausted, with dirt in the new creases on his forehead.

Puar was there, Oolong and the old pervert and even his sister and her parents, trying to speak to her, to say how sorry they were for her _loss_.

She couldn't really say how much she suddenly loved them. More than that. Love was something dumb and little, a thing that would turn around and bite you no matter how you grabbed its tail. It didn't help you by itself. Get you anywhere.

But respect was better. To fear for these people. Trust.

Those were so much more important.

Her friends.

Nothing she could ever tell them, feeling more than seeing the others come around her. Maybe just finally breaking down and sobbing as loud as her son did was good enough.

Just like how Bulma could never explain to anyone why she no longer ate pork.

Like how she had laughed, briefly, seeing the android on the operating table. For way too long, Bulma had been on the sidelines.

I will undo. I will mangle. I will avenge.

It was something Vegeta might have appreciated, smirked and laughed at, and that burns something inside her. Brings life and pushes away the grey curtains that have smothered her vision and made a mockery of her life. She cast them away, and watches her son growing and believed he might be tall eventually. He will become old enough for her to find out, thanks to Earth's protectors, and when she does cry, still seeing her bloody scalpels, he toddles over to check and see what's wrong. Bulma can pull him into her arms, ignoring his squawks, and kiss him and thank Kami and Goku for him, and Gohan and Krillin. And Vegeta. There were so many gifts now.

He knew his father's dead. All his uncles. Does not understand death, no, but will eventually understand what happened. It will be something pressed on him, even if the Earth recovers, like a brand or scar.

In ten years, will her tall son stand there with hair in his eyes, jaw clenched, and ask why she had spared the machine? Will it still be walking, or will they tire of their experiment?

The machinery was so delicate. Sweetly snug inside, delicate as her mother's cooking, as her father's hands at circuitry. The one piece that is a marvel, truly, so clever in how it circumvents the law of conversation of energy and thermodynamics. Nothing leaves, no heat dissipation, no mass lost, just _recycled_. Just like having all this power and using it to punch people of all things; Gero must have loved the idea of beating someone at their own game.

But that didn't give Bulma a pause in the least.

It brought her an immeasurable amount of pleasure to distort and twist the assembly inside that blonde head. No one could love the sound of her keyboard more, or better understand how deadly it is as the wires slide inside.

She will tire. Age? Maybe not. But now she is not invincible.

It was Bulma's finest work, aside from Trunks.

Try it, android. Just try it. Gohan still trains, still has his heart charred and half-diamond at this point, and will so gladly fuck you up.

She wanted to shout schoolyard insults and spit on the blank face.

_You loooooose! _Do you hear me? You do not get to win. Dead, you might as well be dead and we'll throw your body to the side of the road for the vultures, for the worms, for creatures of Earth to share the spoils of victory. Just like we did to your brother.

Like you did to us.

Because sometimes the greyness, the flatness, comes back, and sometimes it doesn't matter that we won.

Hadn't they?

Pyritic.

A tie really, but the android got so many more points in, they took so much more. Fifty percent? We got that much, but how much did they win?

Were you the one that killed him? I know you helped kill others, but was it your hand that dealt the final blow, to Vegeta? To Yamcha? Did you kill Tien and Piccolo?

And Krillin had the nerve to make requests for her.

He understood, but not enough. Krillin had always been one of her smarter friends, realistic, usually with a plan and the one you could call on a rainy day to talk to about anything. One of the few that really had a phone and that didn't have a busy signal. It was he that got the remote, and Gohan would be the distraction they all decided. Not such a heavy thing, harder than working on Vegeta's training chambers, maybe because there was so much more at stake. She kept fucking something up, and having to start all over. Hands shaking and not because of the coffee or lack of sleep.

I could get them both killed if this goes wrong.

And she would be rightfully blamed. Had the chance for once to really help the fighters, and because of her, it would go wrong. These two, the two that were left of the group, would die because Bulma's vision wavered or because she couldn't solder something right for once in her life. How could she look Chi-Chi in the eyes again if something happened to Gohan? Roshi, and the others, how they would all look at her if something bad happened to Gohan and Krillin. Trunks who would wonder what happened to his two 'uncles' and learn that his mother was responsible.

But still she had listened to the radio while at her computer, at her desk with bare hands that burned but couldn't be trusted in gloves. Heard the latest toll, and hated that each one was on her—no matter how a voice argued against that. She wasn't getting it right, and so Parsleytown was now in ruins.

It was only later, with one android incapacitated and the other dead, that Bulma could close her eyes and weep. Relief and guilt and shame. If she'd figured this out sooner—if she'd been able to make a cure. If on Namek they had saved Goku on time. If she were better.

Two weeks six days that turn into six weeks.

The voice of the android in her walls, staining everything.

Just another day in this funhouse.

Was it you?

The worst part was that this was becoming normal. Seeing each other was less and less a surprise. They had a _routine_.

More than twelve weeks.

The unsettling moments of humanity, like catching the android grabbing the box of tampons—and then having to buy some for her and the sheer insanity of that. Her poking at a bowl of cereal, watching a game show on TV, usually with Krillin nearly, both of them making their little comments and laughing.

These things slip by and leave her unsettled, especially when she finds the android staring at Trunks, who had just dumped oatmeal on his head to congeal. Wanting to reach for a towel to clean him, and alone with_ her_ son.

Days that line up to weeks and months and months.

Krillin was always nearby lately. A relief, such a relief. To know that there will at least be a signal, that someone will know and tell Gohan, if the cyborg does bug out and go back—revert—to her original programming.

Krillin who wanted to be friends with everyone.

Who smiled at that thing, head turned a little away from her, almost shy. Almost hiding. Bringing back things. Taking her places, covered, but still outside the safety of this place and the remote controller. He would be the first to suffer her wrath, but was oblivious, in his own bubble that excluded common sense.

It was new, to see her friend in this peace lately. Not since Goku had died had there been any real laughter from him. Because he really did want to be friends with everyone, and would develop his own protective streak when it came to them.

Was that it, when Bulma found the machine insulting him, and Krillin nodding along, even when Juuhachigou grew frustrated with his passiveness.

Still little, but more a_ man_ than he'd been with his first girlfriend. The one that would force food onto the others, and had used that remote and had changed Trunks diaper and then helped potty-train him. Complaining about the tiny things, but never leaving no matter how they might yell at him while he stood there with eyes like (Goku, Vegeta, Yamcha, the rest of them) some patient animal.

She still had a hard time believing that he'd survived those things. Things that had killed the Saiyans

(him)

And not even Krillin seemed to understand it either. A cruelty that he'd lived, and maybe that's why his collarbone juts out and how he drifted now. There always, but never there. He would blink as though trying to shift the world, even now.

Especially now, as a new person entered their circle. The interloper in a way that there hadn't been for a long time now, since that one girl...whom Krillin hadn't had any dignity around. Bad news. Almost as bad for him as this android was, and they both looked strange alongside her short friend. Though, Juuhachigou stuck to him closer than that blue-haired woman had, and more than once had looked to Krillin for guidance at certain situations.

To be met with that equal patience he showed for everyone. Him all but taking her hand. Here. Here's how.

Making her a person, or trying to. Some parody that could go into a store and walk out without a body count.

For what though. The original plan of having her be a fighter (oh but no, why arm her further?) and to help them was hardly standing. So why not use that remote again and end this? But when she asked Krillin, there was something that Bulma only now understood in his reaction.

"Kill her? Now? I don't know, Bulma." Why would we do that?

Why wouldn't we?

This man that she respected that would come home, to their home (though who was _their)_ with boxes and bags or fresh from the movies or from the park, both flushed from the cold. How similar that was to a before, to when they were all together and just waiting for Goku to finally show up again with a new adventure to drag them into. The unblinking look that wasn't anything like the flushed stammering little fighter, but why wouldn't that change too, along with everything else in this place?

This hell, where one of the androids still lived and everyone was dead. All of them gone and beyond her. Losing Vegeta before she could even begin to properly dismiss his presence and there would be no shock to find his mean little face next to her when she rolled over. With a child that still could outdo her with a crushing love, inescapable, when she found Trunks sitting calmly with a bowl of apple sauce on his head, waiting for his mother to return and clean him like a little _prince._ This hell of twisted walls and Juuhachigou looked nervous at her, and was perhaps trying to become friends with the small man that had fought even now to save her.

Bulma had really thought there would be a safe neat end to this. A neat flicker out, as they decided to kill Juuhachigou should she snap, or maybe send her away in time, for her to find a penance that would not involve any of them.

Remember Maron? Oh, why couldn't you have just married Maron?

There were worst things than getting used to all those things. Or it was those things, because their existence meant that their lives would continue on.

* * *

She awoke with sun in her eyes, and voices in other rooms. Noticed that, the weight of her head, the state of her body and its condition. Further spreading out.

It wasn't raining anymore.

What she knew was brilliant in its simplicity. Juuhachigou could only focus on each individual minutes, each day, and never anything past it. Wake and appreciate the coolness of sheets. The hunger that beat her pain in immediate attention. Sun warming her skin. The sound of coffee, the smell of it and how it might almost burn her tongue.

She was Juuhachigou, Eighteen, depending on the person saying it. She had nearly ruined the planet and should not be trusted. Had even killed her twin brother. Preferred the color blue. Liked to wear denim.

Jeans, pants, long-sleeved shirts in solid colors.

Slept too much.

She awoke from dreams of murder of strangers she'd seen only in photos. Of slaughter to those Juuhachigou _did _know.

But then Krillin would rush in and flop onto the ground. "Six hours. This time, Master Roshi and I played chess for six hours. He lost _sixteen times."_ Prostrate, eyes rolling back. But then he blinked and jumped up.

"Want to go to the mall? That's how bored I was. I would rather have been at the _mall_. One time offer only."

There are animals here, usually ones that get by just fine alone. Cats and dinosaurs that avoid one another.

But now she understood the dogs that run for the door at the sound of a lock being opened.

His basic decency caught her short.

That he snuck her out and helped cover her face, sometimes literally putting makeup or just paint on her and all but giggling while he did it to himself to match. There had been ice between them, a gap of knowledge and experience that had deteriorated from simple fatigue rather than just kindness.

But Krillin was capable of that gentleness that still undid her. Like when he brought her clothes, and says yes, that she is real, and this is happening, and to go to sleep. Or stay up with him, watching useless infomercials and 24-hour news cycles that talk of the mysterious disappearance of the androids.

"Yeah, that's a real head scratcher," Bulma would say over something mysterious in her hands. This overlord of everything Juuhachigou could see.

"Who knows where those fiends could be?" And Krillin would play amazed, almost falling off his chair as he stared at Juuhachigou. "You know, you look _really _familiar."

Maybe the blue-haired genius/mad scientist would continue along with it. "Could it be?"

"No way."

"I dunno. Look at that nose."

_What _about her nose? At least she had one.

"Yeah, I think it could be her." He clutched his heart, half-hanging from his seat. "Oh god, it's Juuhachigou! Run for your lives."

"I always thought she'd be taller, too."

"You two are not even funny. What, you two want my autograph?"

Hating that he—they- know every aspect of her life better than she does.

Soon, there would come some breaking point where Juuhachigou would say enough, and take a car. Drive away from this city towards the coast with the windows down. Find a bar with tequila shots, sangria, margaritas. Lobster and shrimp and papaya on ice. No shadow at her side.

Maybe a dumb guy there, but one she could tell to fuck off and would do so. Not like Krillin, had taken to making faces. "Not nice."

"Who says I have to be nice? Especially to you?"

His round chin resting on small hands. "I guess no one. But wouldn't it be better if we weren't so angry at each other?"

"Are you angry at me?" Then fixing that statement. "At me _right now_?"

"I don't know. No. Not now."

"Because I killed your friends and half the human race? I did this?" She touched his face, watching how wide his eyes could go. How utterly black they were, with only a few radial lines of grey. Charcoal and steel. Expressive, under the thick eyebrows.

He was some kind of strange avatar of humanity. Muscles absurd, exaggerated, with his short form under the bright t-shirts. Noseless, unfortunate-looking with his assortment of scars, and_ odd_. But the only one that would hold a conversation and answer her questions. Even now, would meet her eyes as her fingers traced around the warm, ugly mark on his jaw. The uneven stubble hadn't covered it, only drew more attention to it. "I'm the one that did that to you, wasn't I?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Before I killed all those people?"

"During. After." Krillin removed her fingers, swallowing, trying to look less afraid and loosen that jaw that was somewhere between square and round.

At least this wasn't reading the same book over and over again, or worse, comic book or chemistry textbook. Even if he was nearly holding her hand.

Juuhachigou, Android Number 18, wondered what he saw right now.

There wasn't much to her when she looked in the mirror. A wan pale face framed by pale yellow hair. Maybe she had dreamed that night of murder, blood leaking through fingers though she sworn to the dark eyes that she hadn't done this.

She didn't need that man, Krillin (his name completely new and unfamiliar no matter how she tried to recall what she might have done to him), but did prefer it when he was around. Especially compared to the others. Even strangers gave her double-takes, suspicious or leering. Which was worse? There were too many looks in her life, and Juuhachigou wasn't in any place to fully analyze let alone react to them all.

In and out of public.

Bulma who watched them so carefully. For the longest time, Juuhachigou hadn't known what was between these two, their _looks_, she sometimes felt like she'd been encroaching on some territory that didn't belong to her and that she had no idea she was even walking on. Maybe she still _was_, in some way. They both watched the purple-haired child, and had known each other since they were both teenagers. It might have been natural, until Krillin brought the photo album. Sat next to her and pointed out faces of dead men. "This is Vegeta."

His face was a larger sharper version of the toddler's. Juuhachigou didn't need to ask what had happened to him.

But that made things clearer, in some ways. Still, the blue-haired woman will watch them together with unease, and even considering what Juuhachigou was, that all seemed unnecessary. She wouldn't kill Krillin, hell, she _hadn't_ killed him when she was a monstrous psychopath, so why now.

Especially now. This man that held her bags, and listened to her rant about how women's jeans had no pockets and about the wig or hat that she wore. Though she did stop herself before ranting about sports bras and how nonsensical the extra padding was.

"I have to admit, you make a strange red-head."

Someone that could be condescending, but would at least stop. Hell, hadn't he been there since the start, and had let himself form words when she could ask questions. That had not let her crash down during this latest mess of surgery.

"You're okay." His voice had risen, unknowing becoming something that he would have used to talk to the infant. "You're okay, I've got you. You're okay."

Insulting, yes, but at least Krillin had kept her from falling on her face. Especially in this hospital gown. Why kill the person, one of the few people, that knew her, that she didn't mind, and could keep his hatred tucked away?

Was that why she didn't mind him, or was it something besides his relative politeness? Or—who the hell knew?

Not even Krillin, who brought her to see new buildings going up, specifically pointing out people and their jobs why she tried not to get bored or ask why he did this. There might be some lesson, a test, and if she _failed_? And it was nice, even as coldness she couldn't feel with or without her dark green pea coat but still made crossing unsalted sidewalks treacherous, and she hated having to look _up_ to Krillin.

"Are you okay?"

Like that was enough to hurt anything but her pride, that had already taken a beating over the last few months.

And Krillin still hadn't taught her to fly, or any actually _ki_ training, though she'd spotted and watched him with the two boys. The brightness that had flown from his hands that had not-stunned her when first seeing it. Only awoken some wistfulness as she watched him forming it, see the lights outlining his features. Krillin trying to pass it to the purple-haired boy, Trunks, and trying to help him keep it in its star-shape. Now a T-shape. Blue and white, shifting shades as he demonstrated, and said things that made the dark-eyed teenager laugh.

A comedian and a teacher, that wanted to show her something new every day.

So she didn't go nuts and another murder spree.

"Go on, then. They're waiting for their foreman."

But still, it was a nice view.

This view, of him—of him with those people.

This view of his back—as he fluttered down to help them, leaving her behind. His clothes really fluttered, and Juuhachigou could almost picture him pretending to be some superhero. The superhero that he _was,_ considering that there was literally flying around and righting wrongs going on in his life.

There was a twinge, watching them, and she wanted to go to them, to pick up their load and help rather than watching them. Help as Krillin did, with people greeting him as though he were a common sight around here. Perhaps he was.

It was mostly the waste that she personally minded. That gave her this twinge. Krillin seemed to hate it too, not matter how much paint and energy was spent with the children under his care. At least that was used to keep Trunks from swinging that bat and knocking over a needed lamp or to hit someone squarely in the groin, which was funny so long as it wasn't you that had to kneel over and learn to breathe properly.

Krillin could do so much more work than the normal humans. Overturn stones, and sometimes glance over his shoulder. Seeing her, or trying to make sure she was there? Watching them all.

Burning their dead.

Watching smoke rising, until her eyes were heavy and her entire head was made of cement. Wake up covered with his jacket. With him eventually returning to her, and them awkwardly trying to get comfortable when he picked her up.

"Why don't I just give you a piggy-back ride?"

Flat against him with her hands on his shoulders, and what, her legs wrapped around him? Trying to keep her voice down. "Would that really be more dignified?"

"Oh. So it was dignity that we were going for?"

"Well, why don't you just show me how to fly?"

"I will." He looked ridiculous, flapping his hands like that. "I just have to learn how to teach it. Now let's get back for dinner."

Take her back to the cage, and stay there with her right back to her bed basically. Practically crawling in there with her, wrapping her in blankets and there was nothing embarrassed in those black eyes.

Because why would there be, when he might squirm over certain women he met that worked around here, the people that would eye him over the scars and wonder what he'd seen and not mind any of it. Him. All of him, and that noseless round face that was meant for overreactions and his shortness that only emphasized the overkilteredness of Krillin, and the scattered of scars and the soft touch of wrinkles on his forehead and light indentures around his mouth in certain moments of stress and his awful voice and way he would get so embarrassed around pretty woman even as they refilled his glass. While she would look into her own mug of coffee and hope no one recognized her.

"How come you're always here?"

Now definitely in this bed, technically, with those elbows on the mattress and his hovering. "How come _you're_ always here?"

She was nearly suffocated with the blankets he was shoving at her. Once, he'd rolled her in them like a burrito, until Juuhachigou nearly kicked him to make him stop. But now you're warm, oh, yeah, you might need your arms, huh. "I can't believe you're the one I have to talk to."

And that was Tuesday.

Just another Tuesday, and when she woke it would be Wednesday and Krillin saw nothing wrong with just hanging out in her room, eating yogurt and watching the weather reports. Staring right back at her. "You overslept."

"_Weirdo_. Like I have someplace to even be."

Krillin still pulled the pillow from away from her head. "We could go to the park again? Or see another movie? Whatever you want. The amusement park?"

It didn't matter where they went, even Juuhachigou knew that.

Maybe he needed a person at his side. A friend to replace those he'd lost.

He was good at whatever this was, placating her, especially compared to Bulma. Burrito-wrapping or not. _She_ was the ruler, the liar, and not a good one. The one with the syringes and made Juuhachigou clench a jaw to hide the fear, as they wouldn't get that from her. No matter what else they might take.

Juuhachigou watched Krillin wandering from building to building and still claiming that the donut place was right around here, wondering consciously again what they were keeping from her, why she was never growing stronger and when they got back, watched the spread of her scars.

* * *

The second time Goku had died. His first grave marker.

Out of all the ways to go. They had made jokes when the first pain struck. About him eating too much bacon, and Goku had just grinned back and told them that you could never eat enough. And they ignored the way he began to sweat and his power to slide during their sparring match, and Krillin even managed to land a few too good punches that made him wince as much as they did Goku.

'Guess I'm just not feeling that well.' With his old smile even as Piccolo had to help him up.

Nothing as simple as a cold could really hurt someone like Goku.

It felt like he was the only one home. The others were out, gone with everyone to comfort each other. Drinks and exchange stories and help Chi-Chi and Gohan. Krillin should have gone along with them. Best friends. Why was he here, standing here in this living room.

The phone had been so cold when he'd picked it up.

Now it burned, almost searing his hand as he held it and felt his ki rising, feeling his friends miles away, even Vegeta who could not believe that the man was dead, even as he saw the body and the lack of any life force, it was a mistake. They had never been friends, Krillin and Vegeta, but he'd never understood the Saiyan prince more as he watched the man. All those thoughts flickering in his eyes, and it was hard to remember that this was an alien he'd fought and nearly killed and been killed by.

He was the one to reach for the Saiyan's arm, while Bulma and her son watched them, and the one to nearly get his teeth knocked out as Vegeta powered up to take off. Left to hurdle himself through the air, furious, alone now, Krillin realized. The last of a race that he still didn't know whether Vegeta even cared about. Had he escaped to space, where no one would see him perhaps bare any wounds? Krillin couldn't sense him, not anymore.

Feel the presence of the others so far away and how easily the phone crumbled in his hand, melting, exposing the wiring he rarely thought about, and it was even easier to throw it through the window. Child's play, even when he'd_ been_ a child. The other fighters were away, and nodding with clenched jaws.

He was still wearing the black band, and Gohan hadn't been able to even make an appearance for the funeral. Chi-Chi wept, able to quickly come to grips with her husband's death, and had perhaps been ready since the first time Goku had died. No one else would cry. Bulma had distracted herself with Trunks, holding him too close and trying to settle his crying. Why was he still wearing this band?

He wanted to break everything. These meaningless things. It was nothing to toss out the TV and blast right through the roof. Nothing hurt. Nothing here could hurt Krillin. For once, his strength that was so _relative _when it came to his friends and enemies, was nothing but a damnation. Strong as, what, perhaps half as strong as Frieza in his first form? For the boy that had used to get beaten up on the 'play yard' of the monastery, that was more than he could have hoped for. All for nothing, really. Not strong enough to ever help, but not weak enough to hang back and never fight.

Now he could destroy this entire planet, really. How much damage could he do before someone stopped him? Do enough damage to the core, as Frieza had, and doom everyone. It was enough to make him sick even right now. Strong enough to take a space ship and wreak havoc on other planets.

It had hardly been Goku they'd buried. Dressed in his same old gi. Not smiling, but solemn as he'd never been. Cheeks rounder than Krillin remembered. Still boyish and hair untamable. Once Lunch had tried to comb it, and even in her blonde, angry state, hadn't been able to get a spike to settle down. He and Yamcha had laughed and watched and Bulma had happily counted her money when Lunch finally paid up for having lost the bet. It didn't seem possible for this man, who would be reaching middle age eventually, to have once been that boy. A bad attempt at a clone or something.

There had been many reasons to not believe that this man slipping past youth couldn't be Goku. Had he lived, would there eventually be grey in his hair? A slouch to his shoulders, and muscles growing slack? Grandchildren and great-grandchildren growing tall around him. Fishing trips with them all, stories begged from their favorite Grandpa, and perhaps Goku might have learned to slow down.

His favorite move, so quickly learned from his Master, and once he'd hoped to look as heroic as Goku did when the Saiyan performed it. Such a pathetic thing. "Ka…me…ha…me...ha!"

Years ago, Krillin had once hated Goku. For about a week. Then began to like his fellow-short student. Admired him, and the lack of pretense and how easily he saw things, a colorblind person introduce to color for the first time. For someone as cynical as Krillin, it was like learning a new language. Eventually, the way Goku stumbled when it came to book learning made him lean forward and help him sound out the word, instead of laugh. Whatever scant thing Krillin might have taught Goku were returned in spades. Simple kindness, and the ability to laugh at the silliest things without any disdain.

The slow realization over how much he cared, and watched him carefully, heart all tender because he'd never really had a friend before, how easy and pathetic. Learning to be afraid of what his 'friend' thought of him, before realizing that Goku was his _friend_, and that meant he didn't care about Krillin's shortness or sarcasm or bald head.

The worshipfulness had come soon enough.

Faith.

"Ka…me…ha…me...ha!"

He had slipped so quickly into a coma.

A coma. Of all things. It was a secret word, dry, unfamiliar.

"Ka…me…"

Chi-Chi hadn't cried as she called everyone. Hands steady, probably, as she tried to hunt everyone down. She had known.

"…ha…me...ha!"

If it had been the other way around, Goku would have found a way to help them. To not help, to just stand around as someone died, that wasn't in his best friend.

Goku had gone Super Saiyan when _he_ had died.

How could he be alive, when Goku was not, and never would be again. A natural death.

"Ka…me…ha…me...ha!"

How could the ocean even still be here, after all this? Any life at all?

Something turns off.

Falling was the easiest thing he'd ever done. To shut himself off and to let go, and not care.

How even now, he stretched out, and was repelled, towards his friends.

Dogpaddling towards land, his home, what he'd left of it the fire now put out from the waves that had crashed into it. Painted it recently himself, with the radio on and the sun heavy on his back. Nothing more urgent on his mind than wondering if he might head out to Capsule Corp and West City this weekend.

Remembering when he'd been a little younger, lying in the overgrown, what was it, hay or wheat, with a book over his head. When he'd been a teenager, trying to do, with a looming shadow overhead with a crazy haircut. Before that, a reminder from Bulma's child, when he'd been a child himself and held his mother's hand. Things that he could recalls, but knew he'd once been, of being small enough to be carried in his mother's arms, of the sperm and the egg that had made him thirty-three years ago.

He was horrifyingly alive.

This fact that ate him alive: how could he be alive, when Goku _wasn't_? A natural death. Like Goku dying could be natural.

Because of nothing. Germs, disease. Frieza that had sent him on that doomed path to some planet. The exchange between the new skills he'd learned from those aliens and that _disease_.

It had been a quiet three years. And in the months following Goku's death, the continued peace and in the new flood of self-pity, Krillin would nearly forgot how to hate.

But at least that was resolved for him after six months, when they arrived.

And of course, had Goku lived, had been there, they would have been stopped.

* * *

Nothing had actually changed. The springs were still sprung, the holes were still in the walls, clothes scattered about without him to pick them up.

The sea was definitely the same.

His friends that waited here, even now after the defeat of the androids, were unchanging. It was bracing, to hear the old sarcastic remarks from Oolong, that wanted to know exactly what had happened and didn't take him seriously when Krillin told them all that they were safe now. Puar's politeness over the food and gifts brought. His Master clapping him on the shoulder, telling him how proud he was of Krillin, his son.

One day, he would come back home, and permanently. But not now, no matter how something ached when he looked over his shoulder and saw the small house from a growing distance. Not yet.

Penance, and never forget that.

There were things from that house, that had taught him how to deal with this situation, that had fit him for his new job. The memory of this house, the house itself and recalling which boards squeaked and the flaking paint and the marks left from scrambles inside years ago as he heard the drill being used. What he'd learned here, and outside of it. His ability to take a beating, for one. It was like someone had fashioned him to one day have to watch Juuhachigou. All that training from boyhood that would come in now, things that allowed his mind to drift away as he looked after her. To see and not see. Something that allowed him to truthfully tell a horrified Juuhachigou that no, he hadn't seen her naked.

"Not ever?" Her angry and flustered. "Not _once_?"

"Nope. Of course not. What—what did you think happened between us before you lost your memory?"

Which only turned Juuhachigou paler. "_Nothing_…did it?"

Making Krillin just shake his head, nearly laughing.

That face so serious. "Is that why you're helping me, Krillin?"

"Knock it off. Of course not."

Not remembering until much later, when a different Juuhachigou had shrugged and turned away. 'You're lucky you're the cute one, that's all.'

A very different Juuhachigou.

This Juuhachigou had never done more than wrap an arm around his shoulder so she wouldn't fall. Cursed at him, at Bulma and Gohan, at herself, but was never—not exactly borderline perverted, she had never been like that, but had been very aware of her body.

There had been guys that she'd liked. Had spoken about it aloud, while her brother rolled his eyes. Then killed those guys to send her ranting about what a child Juunanagou was. Her flirting was a horrifying thing. It could send strong men to shivering in disgust, trying not to flinch as she traced a finger down their face.

Teenagers, the androids had been, and sex could be another plaything like their cars they raced.

Didn't Krillin know that better than anyone. With her jokes and kicks that sent him tumbling. Was that how he'd survived so long, for having this ridiculous face and maybe, for not crumbling or weeping at any overture no matter how sarcastic or otherwise. For knowing what she was, and not giving her any satisfaction…but there are things that Krillin would rather not think about concerning the androids, and not just about their murders.

Now she wore one of his button up shirts, white, and too loose, taken from his wardrobe when he wasn't there and thrown to cover herself up in the evening. And would make no comment on how nice her eyes looked when she wore blue, weren't they pretty?

(they were)

If Juuhachigou was still aware of how pretty (perfect) she was even now

(especially when she wore that white shirt that was meant to go with that suit he no longer wore)

she didn't rub it in Krillin's face anymore.

It was a greased slide, and Krillin definitely didn't bother to struggle. It's easier to sink, to slide, and watch the flowers and weeds growing in the empty spots where whole houses had once stood.

He'd brought flowers, now. Crinkled in their paper. Weird, how there were still florists to be found, how people were still carrying on with business and that he'd used money to buy these rather than scavenged them. Not _roses_, but something else, 'hyacinths' the tag read, bright and happy, alive and waxy petals that probably smelled sweet, and yellow as—Krillin had brought flowers.

Juuhachigou didn't seem to care about them one way or another.

There are so many excuses for sneaking her outside more. She might be suffering from a vitamin deficiency from all that time underground. Like a normal person might. Growing bored and resentful, perhaps questioning why she was even listening to them at all, getting annoyed and awakening that flight-or-fight response that Bulma had commented on, so rearranged and twisted from Gero.

But really, he wanted to pretend they were normal.

That any of this could be normal.

That they could be in public like any other two people. And that she were any other person, one that wouldn't have normally given him the time of day, if things were different. She would have laughed in his face, rather than joked and teased about his scrub of a beard that needed to be taken care of, and wouldn't have encouraged him to please grow out his hair.

"It just looks worse when you're bald."

"Worse? For who?"

"Duh. _Me._ I'm the one in public with you. It reflects badly on me being seen with this…" But Juuhachigou was smiling. "Short noseless bald guy."

"How does that make you look_ bad_?"

"Like you're the best I can do."

A high whistle in his ear, light-headed, in some_ short _blissful state. "No one thinks we're together. Rest assured."

Then she seemed to take it as a personal challenge. Making him carry her things, all but looping their arms together or holding hands when they walked side-by-side. That time before that he now remembered with a crispness, when winter had still been on them, and all had been so wary of her, and then she'd, probably still a little out of it from meds, ended up being cajoled by Trunks into pulling his sled around. Commenting on women looking at him, and perhaps staring down a flirting waitress or the people that came into the shelters he spent so much time at that Juuhachigou had wanted to see. Her in shorts and a t-shirt, sometimes his own, as summer began to creep towards them. Things that made him want to put his head down for a long time.

Her in the flickering light of the TV screen, nothing words in the background, the sharp nose and her little remarks that begin to sputter out in coherency and frequency. When her hair fell into her face, those closed cat eyes. She snored, a little. The simple fact of her and all she was.

Juuhachigou, you are beautiful.

Until she would come up behind him. To poke the back of his skull with one determined finger. "What's wrong?"

Until it didn't matter that it was a joke. Because it didn't matter that it was a joke.

You can't. Oh, Juu, you can't do this.

No one had done this to him, for him, before. Not even his ex. _Certainly_ not his ex, and he remembered her with a chilly flash. How many other girls he'd pined for, had tripped him up and left him to daydream, and now she was here, _her_, a person that he might have waited his entire life to meet and would have been better off if she hadn't been born. This woman that could have been in dreams instead of nightmares. Instead of both.

A cruelty, until Krillin was the one waking up with her watching him. Her asking _him_ if he wanted to go out, to do something, and following Krillin into his bedroom to lounge about with one leg thrown over the arm of his chair. Him going on about some nonsense, talking aloud of picnics in the park and wander around the hills outside West City if she decided to stop hating nature so much, or walk around the mall. In the safety of his brain, having a fantasy of putting his head in her lap, of resting his chin on that bony knee or better yet, kissing that knee and then moving downwards to explore that leg, the calves and ankle, and then _up_ to a spot he shouldn't think about.

Juuhachigou tugged and pulled him to her side. With those tapered blue eyes, yellow-gold hair that was painfully straight, and long fingers that could have been used for making sutures or writing books or holding a paintbrush. Her hands.

He fell, conscious, in love with her handwriting first, neat and tight, left-handed or not. She did everything well. Neat. Maybe ambidextrous. Perfect as the rest of her, he'd thought, and then filed that away immediately.

Could you care and trust and respect someone without trusting them?

Prejudice, or common sense, not to fall in love with an android that had killed half your friends and millions of others? Only with Juuhachigou was this an honest question.

If it had been Juunanagou, would you have spared him? If she had been closer, and had turned and so scared you, so brought your guts to your throat, would you have killed him?

Despises his own attraction, that he was a man, that he was heterosexual, that she looked like that, that she didn't act like this, that he had spared her, the treacherous voices in his head.

But didn't Vegeta do worse?

These treacherous voices in his head.

Even if that was something that Juuhachigou had spoken of, when learning of the others and their own pasts. "So I wasn't the only evil person to join your little group? You'd think you'd have developed standards by now."

"We did. That's why you're here."

"You just ran out of other members. That's why I'm here."

He wanted to forgive, but how could you do that for someone that could not repent, could no longer be held accountable for their actions?

He feared and wanted for the day to come when she would discover their lies. For the eyes to flash and turn cold and do what they had thought her capable of since he'd brought her to Capsule Corp.

Instead, she fell asleep while he had been rubbing her shoulders, boneless and impossible not to love her like that, this blonde little kitten. A lioness. A predator that now ate raisin toast and was not a morning person and disliked tea. Who might roll over and come very close to cuddling against him when they might fall asleep on the couch together.

Peak insanity.

Lately, Krillin had been counting the space between them, inch by inch.

Take note on that, and how his height gave him a complicated view that Juuhachigou didn't seem to acknowledge when she leaned against him. So little like the other women in his life, now and even before he'd met Juuhachigou. Her presence only seemed to exasperate the blank loneliness that had been driven back by the android's presence. Before their arrival, when Krillin had been so sure he'd never meet the right one.

A fact that he was more than ever certain about.

Wanting to approach women that he did meet, normal sane that didn't mind his shortness or lack of money and noseless face. Wanting someone there, to start a life with. To be there, when he woke up, with a cry in his throat, and have that person understand. For that person to not be Juuhachigou.

Even while knowing that it was too late. That there weren't any other women that could exactly compare to Juuhachigou, that understood him, that would actually tease rather than mock his appearance and stuttering that had suddenly come about when he was with her. Choked him up, when he'd turn his head and find her right there, perhaps about to lean on him and force his neck to hurt as he desperately kept his gaze elsewhere.

Even if it was doomed. All of it. Less than ashes he might have held when they still needed to burn the bodies that would stack up.

Too much separated them, even if Juuhachigou might be joking or serious as she would lay a hand lightly over his just before someone else came over to talk to him. Just to dissuade, or mock.

Krillin would see others together, couples, people having children again as they learned that the androids had been defeated. Something that Bulma had started telling refugees as they arrived, seeking shelter from their own destroyed homes. A growing trickle of humanity, as though buoyed by the fact that there were no more destruction and could live in peace. People kissing in public.

Girls that would never do that much to him, that he'd gone years pining for. That he had thought about, exactly women and just the idea of a perfect girlfriend that would stick around for a year, forever.

Understanding what they were would not save them. Did not save him from finding himself looking at the part in her hair or memorizing the curve of her cheek.

There could be no forgiveness.

Is there justice in letting things go, or just relief?

Or just what he would feel when she needed his help getting around and his hands would go around her waist, or when Juuhachigou would sit behind the wheel of a borrowed car. "Are you going to teach me how to work this thing?"

Then learning that she was a terrible driver, and no wonder why it had always been her brother that had used cars.

Juunanagou, whom Krillin had so rarely thought of. Now that Juuhachigou was cleaved away from him, this woman with hair hanging in her face that could not back the car up straight, he had to remind himself that she'd even had a brother. Remind himself that she was an android, and far from being a regular human being with all the flaws that came along with that.

There had been groups, people, that had worshiped the androids. That had seen them as a righteous punishment, as didn't they destroy cities, weren't they as capricious as any god? Had Krillin not spent years training among demi-gods and seen what the universe could offer, he might have felt something similar. Even for someone that had seen similar battlefields, looking onto the damage could bring forth a dread so terrible it could have been religious. Had the androids known—they would have laughed themselves sick and then murdered all of their worshippers?

Never knowing, or believing, the true origin of them. Weren't there other deities that were twins, and even ones that handled death? He remembered being on his knees before the steel table, and felt a guilty twinge.

Juuhachigou was not someone to be worshipped. Not this woman, not that woman she had been.

She would have hated that. As she did the stares she got from strangers, particularly men that saw that pretty, if sometimes tired, face. Then glance down and take in the rest. The rest was this perfection, even knowing the scars hidden under clothes. Average height, the only part of her that was average. She stuck out, covered up or not, and drew the eye.

One day, she would probably start something with _someone_ maybe a fighter, one of the fighters maybe that were finding their way here, to learn more from the men that had killed the androids. They would learn the truth, and learn to deal with it. Just like Krillin had, but they would not come with the same amount of baggage and issues and unattractiveness that he had.

It didn't matter about his own selfish feelings and wanting to have her remain at his side. His secret.

The few that did know that she was still alive, if unchanged, were already learning to deal with it. Chi-Chi would even come by, if staring Juuhachigou down from a great distance. Analyzing the cyborg, and coming to her own conclusions while the blonde sat there unknowingly in the living room, slouching on the couch. She was another part of his life now, in all facets it felt like. An addition that kept him going, but for the living, rather than just to preserve the memory of the dead.

They existed in their bubble.

In the garden, behind the wall. Touching grass, fingertips stroking the tops of it. She didn't care much for flowers, put would still prod them just to see her effect on this world. Calm and peaceful, while he lay on the deck chair watching her and the last bits of summer weather and drifting out until Juuhachigou found the hose to spray him with.

Even now, her part of his group, there at his side while analyzing through the dust through to the destruction beneath. Her sharp eyes that were no longer something to be feared. Then she was slipping past him. Losing each other in that chaos, and Krillin had to still his fear. A year since she'd been stolen and reworked and changed, and yet there was still this worm inside him that whispered that he should be afraid. Ghosts of her in this mess that still his heart one minute and send it to shaking another.

When they found each other again, she was dirty, slightly annoyed at the state of her clothes, and oddly content. At some state of peace, here as they gathered survivors.

At that bar. A foot and a half of distance that slipped away as Juuhachigou started to talk. Then grew again when he began to speak.

Krillin had to leave her, keep his back straight. Not look over his shoulder. He would be the man he saw in the movies that broke up with the girl for his own selfish desires or maybe for something grander than himself, to not betray his country and flag and she had to know that deep down.

It didn't matter where he went. If he buried himself in this humanity or wandered alone. It didn't matter at all.

Not after what she'd said, and he'd said, and that look on her face. The things that had needed to be expressed. No matter of how it have carved into his thorax that leaves him almost physically holding his stomach as he walked. Amazed at himself, as much as he was at her, for all this.

Going home, to this home, was not an easy thing. Krillin could only imagine what he looked like, remembering a different return in another life. At least now there was less stubble on his face if more on his head at Juuhachigou's behest. Another way she'd physically marked him, the fighter (was he still?) realized just as he did what had happened.

"Is she here?"

The genius, and she was really, in all manners of everything as she often bragged, was looking at her cigarette rather than him. Watching the ash gather and grow heavy, and fall down onto the couch. She didn't need to look at him. Hell, Krillin wasn't deserving of eye contact like a better person might have.

I pushed her away, and for what—they blame me anyway, they still hate her and should and I-

"Nothing. Bulma. _Nothing_ happened."

I wouldn't let it. Even if I wish it did.

Bulma was smiling, tightly, looking too old. Furious. "I wonder what will happen when you start to get angry."

"Angry? At who?"

"You'll see," she promised.

"Bulma."

"I don't want to talk right now. Can you do that much for me?"

"I'm _sorry."_

Should someone else find her, know who she was, they would have strung her up. Rightfully so. They wouldn't care that she had a sense of humor that didn't involve maiming and was a sore loser at video games and liked shopping for clothes. That hated the sound of sleeping bags and disliked the color orange. Juuhachigou no longer wore the same denim skirt. Or murdered anyone.

Oh, god.

Juuhachigou.

He had to leave, leave without telling anyone. Just for a little while. But long enough so that he would come back, the air would be cleaner. There would be so little oxygen when she spoke and Krillin would learn to breathe properly around her. Left with nothing but the clothes on his back, going to first north, then slipping eastward.

The little stream not far away was the same, the dead brown grass a little long without Goku to training and roll around in it and get it to a proper length as Chi-Chi yelled about grass stains. The apples had long since come and gone, and Krillin bet that his friend would have not minded being buried here. As opposed to a cemetery full of people he didn't know.

"Not that it really matters. You're up there with fighters you probably don't really know. Right buddy?"

Why was he whispering? The Son house was a ways off, and they wouldn't have mocked him for talking to this memorial. There were no weeds here, after all, and some drying flowers left nearby. A caterpillar walked over them, but Goku wouldn't have minded that either.

"But you were always good at making friends."

Now he was talking to a dead man. The body was nothing more than a vessel. No one knew that better than he, even before he'd seen proper death. What was under this grass and dirt would be a horror, and an empty one. Things that even Krillin couldn't have stood to see, even now.

But it helped, to have something to touch and feel connected to. Goku had moved on, but this still had his name on it.

"Goku, I'm not even sure why I'm here._ You're_ not."

There was not even wind rustling to take as a sign someone was listening.

Should he say how sorry he was, that Goku had left, that Krillin hadn't been able to help at all. That he would have died gladly in his friend's case.

"I used to always try to follow your example. Hell, I still do. But I can't even imagine you in this situation."

For Goku, everything had come easy. Even marriage and children, though Krillin had always wondered how the two of them had gotten along—and how Gohan had come along so quickly from their clueless friend. But he had never wondered or worried about having a date, if he'd die alone, if he was good-looking or not. No build up idea in his head of family and his place in the world. One advantage of being raised in the middle of nowhere with such little human interaction, Krillin guessed.

He sat there, balanced on one knee, the other leg drawn to his body. Feel the sun warming his skin, on his short but even layer of hair. How the others would be so shocked at him having any hair at all, but even Bulma had commented that he looked better with it. The ex-monk reached up to rub at Goku's name engraved on the stone. Eventually it would wear away, just like the people on this planet and their memories.

"I think you would have said something about how crazy it was. Then you would have laughed. Because she's different now. I don't think you would have gotten all the stuff about the robotics, and I don't get it either, but you'd know that she's not the same person. Not really."

He wished he'd brought incense or something. That worn rock with fading mark of their master that only two people on this planet would have recognized the importance of anymore. A picture, even though such things were more important to the living.

"Would you have been okay with it though?"

Did it matter?

But he felt the slightest creep of the wind gently brushing his neck, hear the trickle of the stream nearby that he wanted to see again. It led to some creek, and eventually a river that ran fast in the spring and the Son family liked to fish in it. He could feel the mud on his worn boots that needed to be replaced as he followed it through the trees and fading sun. Sense and hear more than see how calm the water was, devoid of ice even now, and lacking in fish that would jump out to splash a hello.

One day, he'd come back here, and bring Gohan and Trunks. With fishing poles that were unnecessary and tents they could never set up right and dumb hats to wear. Tell ghost stories around a fire and eat piles of smores.

Maybe there wasn't any sign, but did he need one from Goku? Of what, that it was okay? Especially from a guy so quick to forgive? There was peace here, and that was partially due to him. Maybe it would be due to Juuhachigou, one day, if Earth continued to draw enemies. Life was still here.

But for now, there was another grave he had to go to.

There would be no markers for him, no sign besides this crater. He dug his hands into the earth, wanting the dirt under his fingernails to tell him he'd been here. Krillin knew this spot too well. Saw it often when he dreamed, when he might fly close by, and had all but memorized the coordinates. Even if he'd never been back.

No matter if there didn't seem to be anything here left of Juunanagou. The android had collapsed, and Gohan had not waited, doing exactly what they'd trained for. Had spoken of as faithfully as Goku might have talked of victory. The explosion had been like an earthquake, and Krillin had thought that they would die there after all. Something placed inside them to ensure that there would be no victories, he surmised, opening his eyes. Feeling out for Gohan's ki and finding it.

Then finding bright hair. Intact.

Here he was, back again. To pay his respect for Juunanagou? No, not even to find if there might a scrap left to bury. But maybe to bow his head for the dead lost. To remember that night, and see possibly the crater he'd made with that crush. The miracle that the remote hadn't been destroyed that had made Krillin sure that they were doing the right thing and luck was still with them.

What was remained of the buildings. Eventually, someone will come here with tools and bulldozers and clear the rubble. Will they find a shred of a black shirt, a white shirt, jeans?

Why had he even come here?

If it had been Juunanagou, there might a young man at Capsule Corp that worried about being a burden and got snotty about playing games and would cheat at poker. Would he ride around on shopping carts and tease Krillin by saying he could get the ones designed to seat children. Probably not let their hips brush when they walked down the aisle together, both of them so aware of their bodies and their surroundings.

Krillin would have more memories of Juunanagou, they'd be clearer, rather than the scattered ones. Of him shooting someone and seeing the bullet mushroomed and that stranger holding his own grey guts in. Right in front of Krillin, so close her could feel the hot blood hitting his face as he just sat there and watched the android walking past with his gun out. He couldn't remember what happened after that.

His ankle hurt now, in this ratty boots, and it was hard to breathe in the cold air. Krillin touched his hair, traced the scar on his jaw, and told himself that what year it was, what month, that it had been in the past and could not hurt him anymore. The bomb had half-done its job of taking out the android, if not an enemy he'd been facing. There was nothing left of Juunanagou but memories, and this area would be cleared and no one would ever know what happened besides him and Gohan and Bulma.

Right now, the only way this place had effected anyone anymore was the dirt under his fingernails.

Go back further.

* * *

The moment he walked onto the battlefield, trying not to show the only weapon they'd had, he known it was going to end badly. Nothing that involved him stepping into a place to be greeted by a person calling 'dibs!' could ever end well.

It was raining, and that seemed fitting. Wet hair clinging to everyone's eyes but his own, and Krillin was grateful for his own shaved head again. He couldn't afford any distractions, like the two androids did as she tried to shove back straight hair from their faces. They had just been about to go inside, to find some safety from the rain, before the fighters had found them. Juuhachigou in particular hated any sign of nature. Maybe she hated the very Earth itself, even down to its atmosphere and weather.

He hardly had a chance to raise his ki before the first blow that sent him flying into that building. A solid hit to the spine, rattling his teeth. Flying, crashing. Landed on his back, thankfully, no crunch but of pavement breaking under him. Boots following him, brown amongst all these blues and blacks and a greys, and a kick to his ribs to nearly fracture them. Playing. Another and again while he tasted blood and tried to protect his stomach above all else.

Juuhachigou that so rarely enjoyed a drawn out fight, but did love watching Krillin weeping and making him ask for her to finally kill him.

Juunanagou that liked to smile, and taunt and reveal that everything was a game. If you got to win, you could live. Everything could be reduced to a tally of points, and humans had been losing for so long.

"You two are so pathetic."

But then she had to turn away from him as Gohan sent a ball of blue energy at her, screaming a taunt, what, was she afraid of _him_. All but yelling that she should pick on someone her own size, and that might have been embarrassing if he wasn't tasting blood right now. And Krillin could see the boy standing there with a tight grin that maybe Vegeta or even Raditz might have worn. Keeping that look on his face, even as Juuhachigou hissed in irritation and flew at him, and Juunanagou occasionally send a thin stream of ki at Gohan with his finger cocked like a gun.

But he could feel it, the rectangular shape that fit his hand. It was intact still. Thank the gods, Kami, King Kai, whoever might still be looking out for them. Goku.

Another time, and it would have been him that was the Bait. A brief distraction for Gohan to _try_. He had already become their hope. But hadn't he always been, since he was little. He was the firstborn child of a long line of warriors, on both sides. Born to pick up the mantle. Goku would have been so proud of him, no matter how something twisted in Gohan's eyes when everyone told him that.

Another time, Krillin would have scrambled up. Might have sunk into whatever calmness that remained to him in this time, not a proper meditative state, but of fatigue and acceptance. Recalled his friends for a brief moment, and hope they were not watching. All his training, from birth truly, tested and tried and bloodied in battle, that really led up to this moment. It amounted to so little.

Now he was the one that be their only hope. Something that the androids would never see coming, even as he lay there and watched Gohan sprint into battle.

Feeling always his body, being so aware of his lungs and his feet in his shoes, to wonder how much it would hurt_, it always hurt_, how he was reduced to a child and trying to run away from pain. Ah, but he didn't want to die here, like this, cold and wet and unable to even see his friend anymore in the mist. There was no heroics or even dignity to this, to being slaughtered by a pair of smirking teenagers. Another number that was meaningless to the universe. Earth's death count. King Kai had not contacted any of them, to show them a way out of this hole. Did anyone outside this planet notice what was occurring? Just as they had never known of Frieza's destruction until they were before it?

There was only agony in his joins. But he didn't want to die on his knees.

This thing, faceless and howling, that grabbed him and yanked him up, _are you a coward_? The androids that would taunt him, when he'd faltered, when he begged, when he asked why.

At least let me die like a fighter, like my friends, to protect someone, like a man, because wasn't that what Krillin had been trying to be for so long. Strong and honorable. Couldn't he do that much? Unfair, to leave Gohan to be their toy.

Even for this brief time.

His bruises are minor, especially in comparison to Gohan who takes another hard elbow to the face that sends him flying further away from Krillin. Leaving him blind to the fight. All he could see was five feet ahead of him as the fog rolled in, see his hands before him already bloodied as healing scabs opened, the old scars and wrinkles of his knuckles.

Watch the rain drops falling into a puddle before him, beautifully clear with leaves floating in it, what little sun a soft gold. Everything is grey, cold before that that glimmer that sneaks through the clouds. Like dawn, back home. The small house with its peeling pink paint and drooping palm trees. He wanted to see that again, sit on the stoop and watch the water crawling over the sand, with no noise except for the waves.

I swear, I swear, this will end here.

There are only sounds left to echo in this rubble. Laughter and cries of pain, and he had to move. They hadn't left much to hide behind, but that was okay.

Hurt to crouch here. It hurt to stand, to move and creep. He'd always been fast, hadn't his Master said that before, even Goku. He would be quick and strong, thoughtless as the androids were.

And she was still laughing, it was knives in his head. Red plumes of rage and yellow fury that stabs into him, green aches of pain, that have clouded his sureness that is a clear blue as he handles the remote in hands that do not shake. Maybe he was even smiling as he watched them all.

She was laughing at the struggling figure in the rain. As though he weren't only a boy, and one hurt at that. As though she had any right to laugh. The male android was watching them, a smile on his face and more amused by his sister than their enemy. He was telling Gohan that he'd been way too late to help anyone, and how little fun they were having with him anymore.

But it was all okay, ultimately.

Juuhachigou hadn't seen Krillin come up behind her with the controller until it was too late. Had she, Krillin wouldn't have made it close enough.

Juunanagou might have understood with that turn to see who was moving closer, but it had sealed his own fate regardless.

* * *

The woman she might have been, had been, could probably diagnose this as a depression. She didn't need years on the planet to have known that this state of being shut-down, when she wasn't experiencing anxiety, was nothing healthy.

But those emotions and that state of mind didn't explain why she found herself following this short man in hopes that they would go swimming.

"We'll go there, sometime. When you get better."

When here was someone who knew what she was,

Sees him leaning over her, as a dentist might, with none of Bulma's flat eyes. In white, and was it bizarre that he had been putting his fingers in her mouth, intent and gentle….was that a sexual dream? There had been a mirror set above it, but she hadn't wanted to look into it, didn't dare, but who had control of such things in their head, and those teeth had been sharp, teeth that did not belong in any human.

Maybe because had had no memories, that was what made this so pathetic. Things that she didn't need to read any book on psychology for.

It smashed her in the head, perhaps as hard as that blast that wiped everything out had.

Was he supposed to be some father-figure, a replacement for her brother. He was, wasn't he? The entire story to this should have been different, one where Juuhachigou learned a lesson and there were clear lines and rules and redemption rather than waking up to limp through the day with no answer. And there should have been different actors, especially for her role.

Objectively, Juuhachigou was aware of how stupid this whole mess was. Of course another person might begin to have feelings for the person that basically saved them constantly, if only from going insane or being dismantled by others for crimes to which she is not entirely innocent.

That he is not exactly handsome, really, if you could think about something passionlessly. Short, and sticking out like a sore thumb in an unpleasant way. Though he did have nice hands. Krillin didn't have a damn nose, and that should be a drawback to his face that looked like a teddy bear's when unshaven and those black button eyes. Cute, but how long could that last.

No, really, how long?

Because Juuhachigou was getting tired of him coming into her room and mentally slapping her about.

It bites and gibers, this thing, this horrible unnecessary thing that has soaked up too much of her life. Why is it here, why, of all dumb things to take over her. When she was what she was, and he was this hero figure, a vigilante without the cape, that had spared her and would leave her to all but rock herself to sleep because she does know what this is and cannot stand it. A punishment, the true thing that will strain her past sanity, this thing that she cannot have any more than she will a normal life—Krillin was that normal life.

Juuhachigou was crazed, a cyborg with a huge list of murders to forever follow her, but she was not _dumb_. He was more than a man, a talisman that represented a life with a lover, affection, care, things like actually houses and their own photographs and lives build up, together.

He had no idea how attractive he was. How brave. Romantic, heroic, a host of things that she knows about only in the base of her spine. Cruel, for him to have this round if not soft face that did not match the dense heavy body. Incongruous. Poorly spliced and she had to stare at the round muscles, mottled pink in the sun, smooth, and she nearly drowned at the pool because of that bathing suit he wore.

Let her drown.

Except he'd been there, to pull her up and ask if she were alright. Mouth-to-Mouth was clearly unnecessary, and Juuhachigou spent the time drying her hair considering that fact. But no, if she had faked it, who knows what Bulma might put her through, besides jumping out from the bushes she was probably hiding from to pop the bottle of champagne. And then it would just be awkward when she came to.

The indents around his mouth. Juuhachigou sometimes had to wear his pants, though less under duress now, that showed too much ankle and was too loose around the waist. Smell his shirt, and know she was being a freak, especially when Bulma walked in on her doing that, and knew exactly what Juuhachigou had been doing- No matter how she tried to play it off. "I really do need some new clothes."

Greedily watching him, and losing herself in reveries concerning literally, his ass, while in public with a hat jammed over her head. Objectively, knowing that this was an escape valve from the rest of her life.

She dreamed, dreams, about him.

She feared and hated surgery for what she might say when under, as now she finally had a secret. Aside from hating them for the vulnerability in the first place, no matter how Krillin would tell her that they were making her better, that they were taking out the metal parts and that she was really, just a person like anyone else, with just a few pieces of modification.

There was no melodrama that matched anything she was experiencing, in any language, on any channel.

But there are terrible songs that reduce her to the rest of humanity, and there was comfort in that fact. That allow her to lay in her room, with a sheet around her shoulders and hands under her head, knowing that Krillin would be there tomorrow.

Deserving such emotions, almost happiness, was beyond her to know but not to ask. What did someone like her deserve? Who was the judge of her, Bulma, the woman who was removing the mechanical pieces of her and could hardly look her in the eyes, with her shifting moods? Or her mother, that blonde woman that tried to force pancakes onto her plate. The boy, with the dead eyes?

There may have been a time when misery was an empty bank account or low test score, but she could only imagine it in the barest way.

Krillin had described her having living in a cage of that Gero man's making, of her brother, of her own maybe. The only way out had been to step over her captors. Truth in that, probably, but it amounted to little. She was here, regardless of how it had come to be. There was nothing behind her, but confusion, and why bother when she could put on a ridiculous knit cap in clashing colors and go onto the hill with a sled and get less and less second glances. Even Bulma and maybe the dark-eyed boy would be here, and Juuhachigou wouldn't mind when they watched her chasing Krillin around to stick snow down his back.

She wanted to kiss him, even using an excuse, of that holly that hung overhead.

He made a cake, and Juuhachigou had to blow out the one candle.

These are new things that are part of her life now. She wanted to hide them away from everyone else. Even things about him that she noticed, like the scars that were caused from her, Juuhachigou assumed. That when he came in to see her, dusty and sometimes limping from a hurt ankle, she wanted to make him a bubble bath, rub his back, bring him soup. Things that he was happy to do for her.

There was a snippet of not even a song that would appear in her head. Rolling her eyes back, and then of course something else would overlay that piece, just when Krillin would enter the room. Or when Juuhachigou would spot him from a distance.

There was very little she could offer him, she knew, face down in a pillow.

Her physical charms probably won't outweigh the reality of what was under this skin. No matter how satisfying it was to slip a bar leg from beneath a sheet and watch him stutter. 'Uh, I could come back when you're dressed?' Okay, so at least there was one part of her he appreciated. Or noticed. Somewhat.

Had she always been like this, or had it been an eventually slide due to the removal of chips that sent her falling down this heap of sexual frustration.

But I am a woman, and you are desperate for one of those, given how Bulma and her mother tease you, yes?

Not_ that_ desperate, he'd say, holding his hands up. To cover his eyes and hide them from seeing her any more. Seeing a face that wasn't so cute if you'd witnessed it covered in your friends' blood for all she knew.

The magazines full of love and sex advice that the cheerful blonde woman left around the house mocked her. They spoke of love and attraction without boundaries, and weird shit to do in bed with your man, of polar opposites that were a positive sign, and wanted to rub it in her face that fall colors were in this time of the year, and she could not pull them off with her hair.

She couldn't say that he'd given her back the possession of humanity, as he had no right to such. But it felt like he'd set on some path back from whatever murderous-well, _fiend_- she'd been about a year ago. Helped kick her through a doorway onto something besides living in a hell of her own doing, and Juuhachigou was walking through it. Every day, she found herself further and further from whatever she'd once been.

It felt less and less like an elaborate joke they were playing on her, all the TV stories undoctered and these pictures were of things that had taken place. Hard not to trust that round face with those puppy eyes that never shied away from her own anymore.

Even if he was probably more responsible for her memory loss than he let on.

This life now didn't seem any more boring or meaningless than the life of that woman on the screen with her face. Even with this medical treatment. Like now, after maybe something else that might have helped, or was just an excuse to put her under and get her so screwed up she could barely close her mouth. On enough shit to make her head spin and put her legs approximately on the moon as far as Juuhachigou could tell.

The shadowy figure had to be her brother. Banal and unnecessary.

I hardly know his face.

From the _TV_.

He had the same eyes as her, the same nose, height, build. Darker, but he was obviously her twin after all. You killed me.

So I did.

So they say you did.

Yes.

It was probably programming, a weakness, something that still made her stomach twinge. "I don't think I care."

There was nothing in that past, so caught on film and studied by everyone. It was meaningless shapes that she felt little for. Was it real, her apathy, how little she liked that clown smile that flattened her face and twists the corners of her eyes. Maybe her empathy was frazzled, but there was still a matter of aesthetic taste and boredom, and-

I could be angry.

But it was anger on how they lied to her, even now. Half-truths and white lies, maybe. That they did not trust her to go out without supervision, though at least Bulma will talk to her now, if softly, uncomfortably. They can sit in the same room together.

Juuhachigou wanted to apologize to all of them, the boy, the blue-haired woman, Krillin, but didn't know how to start. If she even could. If she still owed them that, and how to phrase such a thing. Should they all just say that they were sorry, for the lying and murdering? Why did she have to apologize when there was no memory of what she'd done, and was therefore—didn't that mean she was no longer responsible?

At least now, she hadn't taken advantage of their hospitality, and blown anything up. Killed the cats, had her way with Krillin, then destroyed the entire building before continuing on with the massacre.

They should be _thanking her_ for her restraint.

Not just nodding as she had complained. "Then what's the point of all of this, if you're still going to treat me like a monster?"

"I get it, Juuhachigou. It's not like we keep you in a cage."

Not like she was free to go and return as she wanted either.

'But did that matter, when you could hardly hold your own drool in your mouth? And not just because Krillin was here to check on you,' her twin chided her.

Dizzy, as always after whatever-they-would-do, weak, shaky. Shields and walls that had been built for her own protection always crumbling.

'And what, are you thinking that you two will date? That you're going to marry him and give him lots of noseless kids? When he won't even introduce you to his other friends, and you still have to cover up to go in public?'

Krillin had used to ask all the time, 'What do you feel? Are you okay?' Rather than just assume that Juuhachigou wanted him near, and had no complaints about him putting a wet rag on her forehead. Chattering about nothing, while she tried to keep her brains from sloshing about. Her twin still fluttering in the corners of her eyes, handsome and dark.

'You won't even age. Remember what Bulma said.'

I know. But I'd like to imagine not just being Android #18. I can forget about the programming, about the voices and commands and just exist.

'With him?'

Sometimes.

Pathetic. But there was that, and the simple draw of a reasonably well-adjusted man that knew her and was not frightened away with a dumb laugh that she could listen to, sink into like a warm bath.

He floated up there, judging her with those mean little blue eyes. 'Reasonably?'

If only Bulma's father hadn't left the occasional dirty magazine around. That might have helped, to not have such clear images around to embed in her mind as clear as the rest of the programming.

Had there been a man in her life, Before? Before _Before_? When she had been human, or was that time, now probably twice gone given what Bulma and Krillin said, spent only with her twin as it had been when she was a killer android. Of all things. When she'd been little, had she wanted to be a doctor or an astronaut or something equally cliché, never knowing that she would end up under a pair of doctor's blades, to put in and then remove cybernetics, never aging.

It was funny, and Juuhachigou was in the middle of explaining her laughter to Krillin when sleep caught her short.

Even when she woke up, relatively sober, it was still there. Planted and watered by him, and his obnoxious voice, the dumb things like his jug ears and how he came in to check on her while eating a pear that she couldn't resist taking a bite from as he bent over to feel for her temperature.

His reaction so weirdly embarrassed. "Juuhachigou! If you wanted one, I could have gotten it for you. How am I supposed to eat this now?"

Lying there on sheets he'd probably cleaned himself and a pillow definitely fluffed by those hands, chewing. Contemplating another year of this. If they lived together and decided to build something outside of what they'd been, would she have to start doing housework? Would one of them have to get a job, as humanity rebuild itself?

She didn't have a job now, not really. Not even when she could leave every day, and would find herself in some disgusting wasteland, using a shovel to dig for piping, hating the mess on her shoes and the stains on her shirt. Furious, when Krillin saddled up next to her. "So, I guess you were never in construction, huh?"

Nearly swinging at him with that shovel, even when she saw his smile.

"And you were?"

"Yeah. Goku and I used to do construction work, when we first started training with Master Roshi."

The pervert in the tacky shirts from the photos. Who was still alive, miraculously, and whom Krillin had never introduced her to. Nor any of those people that would know who she was, outside the small group that lived at Capsule Corp. The boy and his mother- both boys and their mothers.

Even now, she was still a secret and would go the rest of this life in this body, trapped and caged.

Krillin left, to help others, to stop others when he see reports on the news of thieves and murders. He helped to reestablish some sense of community, if only through making places livable. Shy, and prone to his own introversion, unwilling to act like a judge no matter how people come to him. He preferred lifting heavy things or pushing kids on the swings than using that brain. Unless it came to board games, where everyone had to form an alliance against him or give tips to the person facing him across the chess board.

He was still a hero. As seen when he'd yank on his shoes if they'd been off to rush out at the sound of bad news on the TV. Ignoring the teasing about where he'd stashed his cape, and then finally dragging her along when some major event did occur. Natural disasters were her best friends.

Shoving them into a coordinated area, finding and losing Krillin, finding herself alive with blood on her hands, nearly smiling as they wailed when she told them where to go. "I can't I Can't. I CAN'T."

Shoving the rubble aside to dig them out, pleased out how easy it was to do that. To do all of this. Wondering where Krillin was, if he was watching her. Was he glad that she were here, because Gohan might not hear about all of this and there was only so much he could do on his own to help everyone? These people that she hadn't hurt. Not now, anyway.

"pleasepleaseoh god."

She didn't know how to comfort people, but she could save them.

Then stand there, preening and being an idiot, while Krillin tried to move people to a safer place. Follow alongside them further into the city, ignoring fallen power lines and the actual places where the pavement had split and buildings had fallen, like a sheep dog. Listening to whimpers and people trying to find out where a relative or friend had gone.

Ignoring the sudden unexpected, unwelcome pang when she sees a boy, younger than Gohan, blonde hair darker than her own, yelling a name. A wound on his forehead bleeding, but the kid was oblivious to that and how he tripped over the rubble and his own feet. Eyes ahead and searching for someone. And Juuhachigou had wanted to help him, to just ask what he was searching for, as he disappeared further from the group and she lost sight of him.

And after, covered in dust and dried gore, dodging others and trying to keep her hat on and the collar of her coat up. Krillin might be following her, and she wanted to shock him, to take him somewhere new that would twist his face into a ridiculous new shape. One that would involve his eyebrows, Juuhachigou knew. Those looks that she had such trouble reading properly, as she didn't when it came to the others. That lit something inside of her and that smug machinery would inform her of raised temperatures and increased heartbeats and the distance between them.

Would he drink alongside her? Get worse in all his mannerisms as the alcohol set in. Was he even _following_ her?

There was a surprising amount of people here. Some worried, asking about others and here to watch the news in this structure that still stood. Others looked like nothing could move them, not even a raging fire or her and her twin coming in with hands of blue and red ki to murder everyone they laid their eyes on.

Did she prefer beer? Sour and watery. Vodka that tasted like frozen berries and cough syrup. Whiskey that was small islands of old oak trees. How was she to know if any of this was supposed to taste good. If there was something missing in her taste buds that explained why people drank these specific flavors rather than something flavorless that blurred vision and relaxed the knot in her head. The bartender had begun to give her looks, maybe because she hadn't paid for any of these emptied glasses.

She wanted to join those people. Just drink. To look at this glass, in this darkly paneled bar, and not how the background of it made Krillin's eyes look muddied, browner, as he found her. He ordered something ridiculous, just missing the tiny umbrella, and didn't seem to care at her own stare.

"So?"

"What?"

"You're just here, drinking? How come?" Something settled in his eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Juuhachigou wanted to vomit on him. Punishment, or a metaphor for her opening this dumb mouth. "Talk about what?"

All gentle. The person that would let you fall asleep against them and not mind the cuddling, even as he flipped through a magazine, steadfast ignoring you. "What you're thinking."

All these sad little things. Things that were still better than the nothingness she'd experienced when first waking up. "I_ think. _I think I wouldn't mind kissing you, at this stage."

That's what you say? That? Of all things? God, how could you say that- ?

His laugh was shaky. "What?"

"You know what."

"Juuhachigou? You're serious? You are being serious. You want…you _like _me?"

Like the person next to him could even nod, or do anything but find themselves encased in ice.

"You have no idea how, uh, tempting that is." He seemed to be reaching for her, for the heart that was in her throat, but taking her shoulder. "You don't."

"But…"

And she wanted to put her head through the bar. A simpler want than the other that she had already voiced. Why the hell had she said that? Not the alcohol's fault, in the least, because she'd felt like this for so long. It couldn't even be blamed for this rush of heat.

"I can't. _We_ can't." Still so reasonable. "It's not because of your—because you're an android. I don't care about that. We're friends. But we can't be together. It wouldn't be. Juuhachigou? It wouldn't be right. Like I'd be taking advantage."

As though she were a child that didn't know any better.

"No, you're not. You're not, but you…"

There was no latch on her mouth, and it was just going to going to sink her.

"You used to be my enemy. My friends are dead now. Even if it wasn't from you, and I know that you wouldn't do that now. I know you're not a monster. But it would feel like a betrayal. I don't know how they'd feel."

Krillin didn't seem to notice how her throat had tightened, and her eyes ached. Maybe he couldn't see that.

"But I'm-thank you? Juuhachigou?"

"What does it matter what your friends would think?" They're all dead, anyway. "This doesn't have anything to do with them. Leave _them_ out of this, for once."

That rising flush. Pained eyes, as though she were hurting him. Something inside him that she couldn't seem to reach that made his tongue slip out to wet his lips over and over. "We shouldn't discuss this here."

"Where then? Is there anything to even talk about?"

"We should go."

Krillin had no idea how painful that word was, the mockery of them leaving. _We_. We should go. Go together, and then separate.

"I don't want to leave with you."

His usual trick of looking down at his feet, but now there was hair to fall into his face. Krillin looked younger, with that spill of ink on his forehead that hid the scars. "I don't want to leave you alone here."

"What do you care?"

Eyes wild. "You think I don't care? That I haven't been trying to separate you from what you used to be? How can I forgive you, when you can't remember _what happened_?"

"_Whose fault is that_?"

That flicker. And she could just lean forward, and put her forehead against his chest and say something about how sorry she was. Look weak and receive more pity. Did she deserve this pride that kept her from doing that, even as sat there and that wall of silence grew.

"You're drunk."

The glass was so very interesting, all of a sudden. It needed a refill soon. "I am not. I don't think I can even get intoxicated."

"Since that night when you woke up and we started making fun of that infomercial with the portable toasters. That was when I wanted to be with you." A twitch in his jaw, and Juuhachigou couldn't even remember that night. "Before that, maybe. I don't know. Do you have any idea how difficult this might be for me?"

"What about me? I'm the one that…" Fessed up.

Krillin's voice could still crack like he was that smug frog of a teenager she'd seen in the pictures that he hadn't wanted to show her. "What if we end up hating each other? We break up?"

"I'll kill you?"

His laughter was so out of place, even as made something curl in her stomach. "It's good we can joke?"

Hope.

Moving closer, hand on the bar skirting closer to his own. "Is it?"

Which made him smile, if turn away. "Is this really happening?"

"Nope. You just hit your head really hard. It's all a dream."

His fingernails were the smoothest things she'd felt. Pink half-moons. A cut on the middle, already closed. In the mirror resting ahead, over the bottles, her face was mild and his as sweet as when he'd find Trunks lying on the stairs, spying. "You've wanted this for months, then?"

"When we were in the dark, and all I could do was listen to your voice."

Which brought light to this dim place. How many times had that happened to her, and yes, this might happen. She had not been a complete idiot. No, she had, because she had waited so long to confess. They would both just admit everything, and order dumb drinks complete with miniature umbrellas and then would go home together. Move into one bedroom, and not have to fight the urge to grab his hand when leading him places. Wake up next to him, and with him next to her in that bed.

The others might complain, but not all of them, given some of the comments and even that widow of his friend, with the dark-hair, she seemed to not hate her so much. The boy had even begun speaking to her lately, and Bulma didn't glare so much or insist on any more surgeries. They would get used to it, just like they had with Bulma and that man she'd probably killed with the sharp features and angry eyes.

We'll have hundreds of nights of making fun of dumb commercials. I don't know all the others things, not now, but I'll give them to you. I'll make it happen. Whatever you want.

"If things were different, and you could still like me, maybe we could have had a different life together." His voice was still so gentle. "One where, you know, we could date. Like a normal couple.

"You're an incredible person. One of the smartest, bravest people I know. Beautiful. You'll meet someone that will be perfect for you.

"We don't have to leave together. But come back to Capsule Corp. It's your home too.

"We don't have to talk about this again, if want."

Krillin was reaching into his back pocket, for his wallet to pay for them both. Leaving even a tip and nodding at the bartender very seriously. Turning his head to hit her with that black stare as he picked up that scalpel that Bulma had put down and decided to begin carving. He saw nothing wrong with yanking out what felt like half her organs, inspecting them, right before he started to walk away without a second glance. While she sat there, with no end to this hole inside her now.

About to fall off her barstool.

The face she saw back was not beautiful. Flared nostrils and mouth a white line. Ugly as anything she'd seen actually reported on, when something had annoyed her and had made her launch further attacks. No wonder they had all avoided teaching her to fight, and wouldn't even want her to learn to fly. Why none of them would approach her like a human being, as she wasn't, how could she have ever allowed herself to forget that fact. As apparent as the brightness of her hair so carefully hidden even now.

Juuhachigou had to turn away. Had to eventually leave, and tell herself that no, she hadn't been physically injured and there was no reason for this ball of sickness in her stomach. Or maybe that was just the alcohol.

In the bathroom, in the mirrors of the sinks, she didn't look any better. No matter how much water she might throw on her face to reduce that look in her eyes.

There were others outside these doors, and she had to keep her face still. Seeing herself walking, turning the door handle, over and over again. How many doors and entrances would she have to go through, for however long she might exist?

Then saw herself falling forward, eyes closed or open, falling right onto her face like a plant of rotting wood. Over and over again.

Especially in this yellow domed house that had taken her too long to find.

She didn't know if she were still drunk of not. If that even mattered. Sober or blind on beer and everything else. Her system was already processing it, filtering it out, and leaving her very bereft of its warmth.

This woman would gladly see her dead, but Juuhachigou needed to say the words aloud. Since this was just fucking honesty hour. "I have feelings for someone."

Blue eyebrows raising, coolly. Pausing. "I didn't know you were capable of that."

"Yes, yes, it turns out I had a heart after all. Now what the hell do I do about it?"

"What do you mean…what type of feelings are you having?"

Juuhachigou should have prepared better for this. So there wouldn't be a flush rising from her neck all the way to the tips of her ears.

"That poor bastard. But I'm sure if he doesn't know who are you, he might go for it. You look like a normal person." Some thought loosened the creases on her pale face. "Maybe this would even be good for you. To make some connection."

None of that was exactly false. Exactly.

At least Bulma wasn't outright discouraging her.

"So, who is he? Do you know his name? Was it someone you met at the mall? Please tell me it's someone I don't know."

…But Bulma might not want to give her advice on how to win over Krillin, who had always been more willing to forgive her.

The knowledge and disbelief in her eyes.

Because Juuhachigou wasn't even alive, maybe human under the machinery, but she has no ki, as she has been told. And all life has energy. No matter how she can move and think and yes, feel, there is no life inside of her.

"Are you asking me how to get into my friend's pants? Are you _ser-i-ous_? Why the hell—why…why would I help you?"

Because I want to be happy. I could make him happy. Because I can…because he will make me feel better? Because he doesn't want me and I don't know how to make him change his mind. "I don't know. Because I'm asking?"

"Are you going to go crazy and kill everyone?"

"What? Of course not. Just because of him…I'm not going to go nuts and murder everyone."

"Can you live without him?"

"Yes!" Like she was _that_ sick, needy, pathetic. Not yet. No matter if she might have found herself in the restroom of a seedy bar, drunk, and trying not to sob in the stall and have others hear. "But I don't want to."

What if he'd _left_? To never come back, to avoid her forever more now. Dodge her, while she would have to do the same. Once, there person she'd been would have murdered Krillin, and had nearly done so a number of times. She would not have been happy to see this version of herself, the one that crumbled when her once-enemy laughed and wanted nothing more than to see him happy and with her, happy because of her, and had cried a little in the stall of a bathroom in some seedy bar.

Krillin would just leave her to talk only to Bulma and her parents and Trunks that could talk so much as to tell you that he wanted popsicles and_ now_.

There must have been some disgusted expression on her face that had only recently begun to feel like her own, because Bulma looked ready to pat her on the shoulder. Lightly, and using a spatula or something longer, but still. "Krillin's an understanding man. He was the one that wanted to help you in the first place. I'm sure you two will forget all about this and move on with your lives."

* * *

For the second time, Krillin woke with a faceful of petals he couldn't smell. But the last time he'd been drunk from shame and beer he'd managed to unearth, and had stumbled to Capsule Corp. Wanting to tell Bulma that she didn't have to do this, that he would leave with her and bury Juuhachigou away from this, only to pass out before he'd gotten inside the building. A year ago?

At least he didn't have a hangover.

Instead there was an android standing there, shoving those flowers into his face. "I thought you might like them. Since you're always buying these things."

"Thanks." Sorry.

All he could say, and all he had said. Out of all things he could have said.

Feeling the plastic wrapped around it sticking to his face.

Then she was almost growling, and stomping out. Then coming back in, as soon as Krillin had peeled the flowers off him. Looking at him, glaring, mouth open and lips a flutter as she tried to insult him or ask him something. Only to make this creaking noise in her throat, and turn her back to him again as she left.

A strange woman.

He should have been annoyed or afraid, rather than sitting here with a lapful of daffodils and grinning and not knowing the answer to any of the obvious questions.

And she's supposed to be the superior species, isn't that what those two used to say? She's supposed to be so scary and intimidating.

Flowers. She brought me _flowers_. No one's done that before.

Hope she didn't steal these.

There were no answers in the shower, or in his face so fogged around the edges. The dark opaque shape on his head, the V-shape over his wide eyes, and it would cover most of his Orin Temple marks and part of the long curving scar on his forehead. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe he'd let the stubble on his face grow out, find some ruggedness to this round face. Change and find his own look.

Then Juuhachigou jumped out at him when he entered the hall, him still damp from a shower.

"Why didn't you just kill me?"

"_When_? What?"

"Why are you still here?"

"I sorta live here. I guess."

"Even now?"

"We're friends. Hey." He wanted to take her hand, hug her, pull her into a long embrace, kiss that rage off her face, not admire the length of her arms in that shirt. Please let someone stop him before his gaze wandered elsewhere. They were standing too close, and he'd always been at an uncomfortable height. "We're friends, and I would never hurt you. And this is your home too. More than it is mine, I bet."

Cup that chin and turn it upward and look her straight in those blue eyes. Oh, you. Juuhachigou. Let their foreheads meet. Then their mouths, and be done with it. Fold her hands in his.

How could he have so much self-control? Normally, his problems concerning women involved how to win them over.

But Juuhachigou was already moving again. Distrusting him, as Krillin had already ruined whatever there might have been. Set fire to it, weeping and choking on the smoke, but he'd burned that bridge. For the memory of his friends that had died at her hand. Let us not forget. Traded milky blue eyes and soft hands for the ghosts of men that probably weren't watching them, for this empty bed and wishing again and again to go back and find a crack to slip away and join them.

What did he have anymore, but those ghosts, and memories, and to watch what was left of his friends growing older and having their own lives. Those, and want, this want.

An hour later, she was hopping out of another room, scaring him. "We should go to the movies."

Demanding it.

He carefully put down the knife, slapping the sandwich together and sliding the plate over to Trunks and his gaping maw. "What do you want to see?"

"I don't care. I just want to be alone with you in the dark."

There was still a knife in his hands, if only a butter knife, dull. Trunks was asking for another sandwich. Heat on the back of his neck. That shade of pink, so delicate on that face that was so undelicate really, if you knew her at all.

Smiling at him. "Just like we were. Only this time we can-"

"Juuhachigou, there's a kid here." What had been at the end of that sentence. God, what had been at the end of that sentence.

"Really, Juuhachigou, I have to watch him."

"Then we can stay in."

It would have been cute, if there weren't knives in her looks, and the way her shoulders curled inward when Krillin made sure there was space between them. She had more self-esteem than him, and wouldn't degrade and beg herself like he had with his first girlfriend. If he refused for much longer, she would shove him down the stairs and then move on for someone that didn't have his problems. She would leave him.

"I don't understand why you're acting like this."

"I told you," he repeated, curt. "We can't be together. It would be—"

Wonderful and miraculous and damning. Confusing. Scarier than his previous short-lived relationships had been. Relationship.

"I don't want to hurt you, Juuhachigou. Or for you to hurt me."

"You know I'd never break your neck."

Oddly specific.

"You're not a coward. Even if we all joke about that—"

What? They made jokes about him behind his back? Juuhachigou and _who_?

"- you're not."

"It's not fear, exactly. I'm just being realistic."

Outside these walls, there had to be someone with a normal life that had a mortgage and a significant other. Those two had met through friends, or at college on the quad, and went to dinner in places with candles and loved and trusted one another.

"What could you even see in me?"

Which only further put color in her cheeks. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? Or do you not see anything?"

"Of course I—it's different."

"Why? I'm the android that participated in mass murder. I bet I was the one that killed most of your friends. Isn't that right?"

"Let's say, that was fifty-fifty."

When was the last time he'd thought of his_ friends_? Remembered their faces and looked at their pictures and watched the home videos and heard their voices? How long had Juuhachigou buried herself in Krillin's head and erased everything, pushed it away, sunk it under the waves? Until the point that it was okay and he could no longer fight how he felt, and only hold back from outright giving in.

What life would they have together? Some parody of a romance, of trying to be like that normal couple with their apartment and then house and kids and dog running around the backyard. He hadn't let himself imagine such a life since the androids had arrived, let alone one _with_ one of those androids. Tow-headed and black-haired kids running underfoot, and how would Mommy and Daddy ever explain how they met. How much it hurt to think of that.

"But you're the _awful_ one, apparently." The smugness in her eyes. "Because, what, you're short?"

When put like that…

"And missing a nose. And that voice."

"Despite that though, you want to date me?"

"I don't know anything about 'dating.'"

It was a dumb word to describe whatever this might be.

Her thumb was rubbing against her lip. Teasing in its way, even if she was looking away. "I'm not supposed to go into detail about what I want. In case a child hears."

Past children. Before children. What created them, and of having a lover. Beyond what anyone else had been to him, in totally different directions. Juuhachigou, who had wanted to kiss him. His friend. Who was walking away from his sad form on this couch back to the kitchen, as Trunks hollered for someone to reach the top cabinets for him.

"Put down that knife. I'll get you some cereal or something."

While Krillin leaned there in the doorway and watched them and eventually Missus Briefs came to keep an eye (two and squinty) on her grandson. Then Bulma, who wanted to eat and fall asleep at the table and obviously was pretending nothing was wrong with her overly loud voice like she was clearing the air between Krillin and Juuhachigou. Doctor Briefs that wanted them to help scavenge around for parts he needed, and while they were out, they really needed a few things from the supermarket.

Clearing off the shopping lists was a mercy, even as he laid there after another shower after a mishap with mustard in the condiment isle. Lying there, hands behind his head and wondering if Juuhachigou would visit him. Thinking that tomorrow anything could happen and how tired and awake he was. Aware of everything from his short hair to the tips of his toes and sensing Gohan miles away and safely studying with his mother nearby and Bulma buried away as she dealt with her grief that she never fully admitted to, and Juuhachigou, without any ki, and Krillin was sure she was thinking about him.

He hadn't understood with Maron that old talk about how your spouse was supposed to be your best friend. And maybe Juuhachigou wasn't, but it was _approaching _that. The ease of this. Slipping into a warm bath. Her embrace. Her.

I want to kiss you and bury my hand in that air and bite the tip of your nose and learn all about what really makes you tick and squirm. What I would do for you. Murder, if only that Gero, lay his head at your feet and confess that he was what made you.

She had asked him what he saw in her.

What don't I?

There was she, doors away, and maybe waiting for him. For him to run into her room, and find her in the mess of sheets and blankets, and pull her sleepy, drooling form out of that and into his arms.

"I want to show you something."

Not until they were outside could she even form a question. "Krillin? What the hell are you doing?"

Then she noticed the height that they were currently flying at.

"You know I hate it when you do this."

"That's why I do it."

With nothing to stop him from giving her sloppy loud kiss to her head. Except maybe fear of spooking her, of moving too fast, of scaring her away like he had his ex, maybe. Maron, who had maybe died because of this woman he was holding right now. A disturbing reminder, no matter how cute Juuhachigou looked in those loose jeans with her hair a loose mess. Fleeing from Metro West and past what was left of the suburbs in the outlying area.

There should have been an enemy to fight and prove himself before her for. Considering how they met, he should have struggled for her in the rain. Protecting her from something worse than even the androids. Frieza come back from Hell, or her twin to rise up and remind her who she was and take her away from them. But no, nothing could separate them except each other.

At most, Bulma would be annoyed by him stealing her away again.

No one to still judge them except themselves. And both of them were so tired of repeating the same facts that never brought comfort.

Disorienting, still scary a little, to see Juuhachigou at his old home. At least she wasn't wearing the old outfit, the denim uniform, or waiting for him with malevolence written across that face when taking in his reaction to her latest work.

She was gathering sand, holding it in her hands and letting it slip through her fingers. Hardly noticing her own repetitive motions, so far out her gaze was to the sea. Black water for miles. Could she see all the way to shore, or was she as hindered from it as he was?

The sun was still not up yet, and the lack of moon and everyone inside was asleep. There were only the stars left for light.

"You brought me all this way, to some pink." She looked behind her. "Some _pink_ house in the middle of nowhere?"

"Don't you trust me, Juuhachigou?"

I can't hate you anymore. It doesn't help me anymore. It doesn't give me strength.

_You_ do now.

There was a warm flush, from his neck to his ears.

"I trust you." The look was exasperated, fond, curious. "Of course I trust you."

It was worse now, to pick her up and carry her to the roof. Even if she didn't yell at him, not even after Krillin had sat her down and taken her hands. Cupped them and kept them six inches apart.

"Oh. I get it. Still, this is an odd place for a romantic date."

"Just watch. Keep your hands like this."

Bright blue the dot that appeared between his own palms after he'd moved away and imitated her position. Growing larger, streaked with gold and lighting up her surprised, smug face.

"I want to show you. I'm sure you can do it too. Here."

Purposefully letting their hands touch, as he tried to transfer energy. Pretending that any shaking was from this minor effort. It was strange, lifeless, like breathing into a rock. Still, she had a reservoir of ki, even if she hadn't used it much since that wet night a hundred years ago. The closest to any of that strength being revealed was tossing balls around the backyard for Trunks to chase after.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Krillin looked up, at that smirking face looming inches above and so far. "Sure."

The ball of energy was bright, larger than his own. Yellow and warm. "It just didn't seem to have much purpose. Besides scaring Bulma."

"What else have you been keeping from me, huh?"

"You know more about me than I do."

"Maybe I do. I can definitely see into the future."

"Can you?"

"Yep. And you're about to learn to fly."

How close she leaned in. Definitely flirting, and Krillin knew what it was like to stand in a dynamite factory holding a lighter. He almost felt bad for what he was about to do. "Oh, am I?"

"Keep that energy in your hands."

"Do I need the light then?"

"Can you spread it, throughout your body?"

"I think so. This is what you do, before you hop into the air and fly away."

"You can feel it. Right under your skin. Everywhere. _Warm_." Krillin watched her eyes all but flutter.

He really did feel a little bad for shoving her off the roof right then. Maybe should have told her to concentrate, or brace herself, even though it wasn't much of a fall. When he peeked over the gutters, she was just lying there, on her back and neck, buried a little into the sand. Half-shocked, growing pissed.

Especially when he floated down

"You asshole."

"You're going to wake everyone up. Then that'll be the end of our quiet date."

"_Bastard_," Juuhachigou marveled.

"I told you: that's how I learned."

"There is sand all over my clothes. You owe me new ones. Just stand there. I don't need your help."

"It was pretty funny to see your expression there."

"Jerkface."

That could have come from Trunks or Bulma when she was unable to curse so loudly because of her watching child. Not homicidally angry, even as she dusted off those clothes. Looking lovely and pouty. It was such a relief that he had to float up and give her a peck on the cheek. "I'm sorry."

The muscles went slack in her face, but those eyes were so alive. "What for?

"Oh, never mind. Are you going to actually teach me anything?"

It wouldn't be a rough landing, no matter how she complained about how she must have gotten sand in her shoes. Balancing before him, leaning down and towards him, perhaps to take off those boots, Krillin realized belatedly. Since she hadn't really been looking him in the eye. Not until he was rising up to shove himself in her face. Find her nose of all things, dizzy at the touch and how sensitive his own mouth was.

Not here. But a dilapidated building might have been worse a place, to talk, to find her fingers in his hair. She would have said something him taking her someplace nice, as though requesting it, and Krillin couldn't think of anything better than this.

No matter how a part recoiled. It couldn't be here, though. Not this place where his friends had all spent uncountable hours in.

It was_ finally_, nails in his neck and a mouth on his neck.

"Krillin." Juuhachigou was a breathless mess of tumbled hair and swollen lips. His own work, and that gave him a twinge that was possessive, and not full of sickness.

Sex was unnecessary. He had kidnapped her, helped rearrange the furniture in her head, and there could be nothing more intimate than that. Any actual intimacy was redundant. Sex was completely unnecessary. So had his hands in her hair and her bite to his lower lip, and all of this, especially her groping him.

They could.

Right here.

Only the memory of Bulma's words, just a few about what she had, still had, and was in working order, kept him still. But they could. Could have. They could have that life he'd dreamed about that had been so scattered so before even the androids had arrived. Insane that things had rippled and distorted. And he was still alive, to pull air into his lungs and see the darkness of her pupils and the silver-coated hair.

He was as surprised as she was when he moved away. Cold now.

How loud the both of them were breathing. "Don't leave."

"Never. I just…there are others that are going to wake up. I'd prefer if they didn't watch."

Her smile. There were dark circles under her eyes, and Krillin wanted to cup her cheek and reassure her. Fall on his face and state his adoration and love. Brand himself before her. "Didn't watch what?"

"You grabbing me like that."

Feeling his pulse in the center of his forehead.

He hadn't looked at a calendar in a long time. Had it been over a year and a half since they'd begun this, two years eventually? He was lying there, this short man, unexceptional in any attractive sense, knowing the dawn was going to light up this ocean, and that he would have to make breakfast while he was here. Right by his lover.

Damned and doomed.

Lost that grip he'd clutched, all the while telling himself that it could be controlled, these feelings. As though anyone could choose who to love, and it didn't just happen, like struck lightning. What was he now, if not the loyal friend that wanted to keep his friends' memories and to be Juuhachigou's companion and guide to a normal life? Cast out as all traitors were when exposed.

"It won't matter. Probably another new enemy will show up. And it'll kill me."

"Oh, shut up. Enough of your self-pity. I'm the cyborg over here. Without a real name. Remember? Besides, I wouldn't let some random person kill you."

"You wouldn't? You want the honor?"

"I would fight _for_ you." Juuhachigou sounded years younger. Wistful.

"You never talk about how I used to…what I was like before."

"I was afraid to," Krillin admitted.

"I bet I wouldn't have done any of this, back then."

"Probably not."

Beautiful, when she smiled, with hair blowing light across her forehead, lying there stretched out. "So. I always had terrible taste in men then?"

"The one constant."

He kept his own smile on, even as he pushed some hair away from her eyes. "The others are waking up. And I can sense Gohan coming to check on us."

"Our chaperone."

But she put her head lightly on his chest, almost nuzzling for a brief moment. Her finding some peace and satisfaction from him, which still bowled Krillin over and would forever. What he loved about her, why he loved her, in part.

They would be shunned, maybe. For a while, at least. Reviled by some of his oldest friends. But they would be together. In time, there might be forgiveness.

Gohan arrived here before the sun, before his friends in the house behind him.

"I felt your ki."

Always now, his eyes scanning around him. The stillness of him. He was looking weedy, too thin still, but better. Those eyes looked less sunken. There might be some semblance of a childhood left for him. Gohan would see adulthood, and would live longer than his own father had. Children of his own, eventually. At least there was that.

Did Gohan notice that his smile was too wide and sick?

Did he not?

Lying implied that you cared about what the other person thought. The androids had helped teach him that, as they'd stood there and told the fighters exactly what they were and what they wanted and what they'd done to the first person that had tried to stop them.

But Krillin couldn't lie, not entirely.

"Everything's fine now."

Eventually, he would tell the others, no matter their reaction.

"C'mon. Let's go inside and wake everyone up. Remember when Trunks found the pots and pans to bang on? Let's do that. I'll make French Toast. Or cereal. Or have to go shopping.

"Hah, you guys finally up?

"Who's this? Oh, this is Juuhachigou."


End file.
